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Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2010 with funding from 

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 

The Battle of New York. 







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Copyright, 1892, 

Printed at the 
Appi,eton Press, U. S. A. 



I. — The city in war-time 1 


III. — Give us a victory 31 

IV. — The newsboys 46 

V. — The Confederate spy 61 

VI. — The meaning of the flag 75 

VII. — Dodging an army 90 

VIII. — Reporting to General Lee 103 

IX. — The first gun of the battle 117 

X. — The battle-field 133 

XI. — The torn ten-dollar bill 148 

XII. — The draft rising in New York 165 

XIII.— The Battle of New York . ... . . . .183 

XIV.— The red flag 201 

XV.— Fort Redding 216 

XVI. — The great day that came 232 




The Battle of New York . 

Return of the regiment 

" No you ain't, honey ! " . 

The spy on Wall Street 

Barry's first lesson at selling newspapers 

Barry tells Mr. Hunker he can go 

The wounded captain tells Barry of the flag 

General Lee covers sleeping Dave with the Confederate fl 

Kid Vogle hooting into the ear of Respectability 

Dave starts for New York with General Lee's message 

Dave delivers General Lee's message to Mr. \'ernon . 

" The inside door won't keep "em back a minute ! " . 
















Y^^j^HE bayonets gleamed brightly in the sun, 
as their steady rows came up the avenue. 
A strong squad of blue-coated policemen 
marched in advance to clear the way, and 
«s behind them marched the band. 
clang !" for at that moment the shrilling of the fifes 
and the roll of the drums were lost in a clash of 
cymbals and in a storm of martial music. 

That grand burst of sound lasted only for a minute 
or so, and then a tune which Barry Eedding knew 
seemed to find wings and to spread them and fly up 
above all other noises, so that it could make itself 
heard. It was very sweet, but Barry clung to the 


lamp-post against which tlie crowd was jamming him 
and said aloud : 

"Yes. it's 'Home, Sweet Home.' I never heard it 
sound that way before, though. Guess they're all 
glad enough to get home." 

There was indeed something like a wail in that 
music. Perhaps that was what he meant. Close 
beside him stood a ragged woman who was crying. 

"No! he won't come back," she said. "He went 
out with them, as brave a man as ever marched, but 
there isn't any coming home for him." 

"That's war!" solemnly remarked a well-dressed 
and rather large man who was bracing himself to 
keep from being shoved off the sidewalk. 

" Mighty little you know 'bout war ! " savagely in- 
sinuated a sharp-faced little fellow, with tremendous 
black mustaches, who was trying to squeeze his 
head through the jam and get a look at the band. 

" Don't I?" replied the big man. " Well, if I don't, 
you needn't pull that sleeve so. It's been empty ever 
since Bull Run, but it hurts yet to jerk it." 

"Beg pardon, comrade!" suddenly and very re- 
spectfully responded the small man, looking up at 
him, "I didn't see your sleeve. All O. K. ! I was 
out two years and didn't get hit once." 

"You didn't have half the chance I did, though. 
Not so much of a target." 



"That's SO — for bullets, but I got blowed up. Lit 
on my feet in a swamp." 

Barry looked at the empty sleeve and wondered 
how the owner of it could be so jolly and self-satisfied 
about it; but just then the woman w^ho was crying 

"Hark! what's that?" 

"'Hail, Columbia,' " replied Barry, but she was not 
speaking of the music. 

The band had marched away on, before it changed 
its tune. Several carriages had followed it, and then 
mounted men and men on foot. Next there was led 
along a well-fed, proud- looking horse, carrying an 
empty saddle, with a sheathed sword hanging at its 

"That's the old colonel's horse. He was killed at 
Chancellorsville. " 

"There comes the regiment!" 

"All that's left of them. Not more'n a hun- 
dred, and they went out pretty near a thousand 

Barry heard it all. He heard a number of other 
remarks about the army and about what the war was 
costing, but his ears heard it for him on their own 
account. He was himself busy only with his eyes, for 
next after the riderless horse marched several ranks 
of men in weather-beaten uniforms. 


"I'm glad they got back," said Barry. "Don't I 
wish 'twas father's regiment!" 

They marched well, and there was a kind of light 
upon their bronzed and hardy faces. There was 
something buoyant and swinging in the way they 
stepped along, and one of them carried the raggedest 
flag Barry had ever seen. 

"I s'pose those are bullet-holes," he said. "It got 
torn, too, in some o' the battles." 

" Wow-oo-ow-wow! " sounded mournfully just be- 
hind him, and he looked around to see a setter dog 
with his muzzled head lifted, sending out a long 
howl, as if he too were thinking of the soldiers who 
did not come back. 

"What's the matter with you?" asked Barry. 
"None o' your folks volunteered. My father's been 
out ever since the war began." 

"Bully for him!" exclaimed the one-armed man. 
"But Cham always howls when he hears 'Hail, 
Columbia. ' " 

"Well he might!" came to Barrj^'s ears, in a kind 
of snarl, from somebody at his left; and the small 
black-mustached man seemed to bristle angrily as 
he turned quickly to answer: 

"What's that? What did that fellow say against 
'Hail, Columbia?'" 

"Hurrah!" shouted Barry. "The Seventh!" 


Return of the regiment. 


Everybody turned to look, and there they came. 
The full, close ranks were in splendid drill. Their 
bayonets flashed in the sunshine. They seemed to 
Barry a perfectly ideal regiment ; and now their band, 
which had been silent, except for a time-keeping drum- 
beat, broke out into something stirring which quickly 
changed into "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are 

Barry admired them exceedingly, but he was still 
thinking of the man who carried the ragged flag. 

" Only a few of that veteran regiment got home — 
only a hundred out of a thousand," he said to himself, 
as he let go of the lamp-post to march with the crowd. 
"I wish father wasn't in the army. What's the use 
o' war?" 

Then he heard somebody saying : 

"Will it be over soon? No, sir; it won't. The 
South'll never give up. It's 1863 now, and there's. 
no telling how many more years it'll last." 

"No, it won't," said the man who had spoken 
against "Hail, Columbia." "Lincoln can't get any 
more volunteers, and they daren't actually draft 

"Daren't they? Can't they?" came excitedly from 
some man near the curb-stone. " I'm going, for one. 
I shan't wait to be drafted. It made me ashamed of 
myself to look at those fellov/s. I've as good a right 


to go and get killed as any man in that regiment ever 
had. I wish I had gone before." 

Barry's ears did not seem to miss anything, nor his 
eyes. He did not walk fast, for he was drifting with 
a stream of people; and every pair of feet among 
them was keeping time with the music. He could 
march well enough, for he was a tall, slender fellow 
—at least an inch longer than could fairly be expected 
of a fourteen-year-old boy. He had grown upward, 
however, without properly widening ; and he gave the 
impression of being too narrow for his length. His 
arms were long and so were his legs. He wore a 
narrow-brimmed straw hat, that came well down over 
his closely-cropped brown head and was cocked a little 
on one side. He was straight enough, however ; and 
there was nothing slouching or listless about him. 

The next remark that he made was to himself, 
and it referred directly to the matter of his own 

"There's a great deal in a uniform," he said. 
"That's a fact. But if I should join the army now 
my uniform wouldn't fit me more'n a week. I won- 
der what on earth makes me grow so fast. I look 
like a guy!" 

He must have grown very well since first putting 
on the blue flannel suit he wore, for he was reaching 
out beyond it in all directions. His neck seemed all 


the longer because of his coat collar coming up no 
higher than it did ; and too much of him was wrists 
and ankles. The next thing he did was to wheel 
discontentedly out of that marching column on the 
sidewalk and take his own course down a cross- 
street, while the returned volunteers and their escort 
and their music paraded on to show themselves in 
other parts of the city. 

Barry's face grew very questioning indeed as he 
walked along. Something was troubling his mind, 
and at last it broke right out. 

"What is war?" he asked aloud. "What right 
has government to do it, anyhow, and have so many 
men killed?" 

He had not expected any answer, but something 
like one was given him. 

A pair of rapid feet had been catching up with his 
own, and he heard : 

" If there was not any goffernment there would not 
be any war. All ofer the world it is so." It was the 
" Hail, Columbia" man again. 

"Hullo, Palovski!" exclaimed Barry, turning to- 
ward him. "Going back to the barber-shop?" 

"I had to go downtown. The goffernment haf 
enrolled me. They haf enrolled efery man. They 
clean out the barber-shop. Down with the goffern- 


It was evident that whatever else Palovski might 
be he was not an American — not a jDatriot — and that 
he did not wish to be made a soldier of. 

"Going to be drafted, are you?" said Barry. 
" Somebody's got to go. If I were old enough I guess 
I wouldn't wait to be drafted." 

"You go some day," said Palovski. "The goffern- 
ment grab you by and by." 

"I wouldn't care," replied Barry, "if they'd let me 
take father's place, so he could come home and take 
care of mother." 

"I tell you," exclaimed Palovski, loudly, "when 
the people haf their rights — no more goff ernment ! no 
more war!" 

He seemed to have but one idea in his head, although 
there was room for more. In fact, it was a head 
almost too large for a man of his size ; but he evi- 
dently had all the strength needed to carry it. He 
was short and dark and muscular, but he somehow 
did not seem at all well shaped. He was not hand- 
some, for his mouth was narrow and thin-lipped and 
his sallow features looked as if they were withered, 
although he was apparently quite young, and his 
mustaches were only a thin pair of black lines. He 
was plainly but not badly dressed, and he wore a 
bright red ribbon in one of his coat button-holes. 

"Well," said Barry, "I s'pose soldiers don't get as 


good wages as you do. I wish I knew how to earn 

"There ought not to be any wages," snarled Pa- 
lovski. "We ought to he all supported by the goff- 
ernment. There must be no rich men." 

"Well," responded Barry, who was very much 
puzzled, "they couldn't be supported if there weren't 
any government." 

That seemed to set Palovski's tongue going. He 
was no taller than Barry, but he seemed to consider 
himself a hundred times as old — older than anybody 
else and wiser. He spoke English freely and with 
only a slight accent, and now, as they walked along, 
he talked some of the queerest stuff Barry had ever 
listened to. He understood some of it, or thought he 
did, especially what Palovski said he himself and 
others had suffered under the tyrant governments of 
Europe. Then Palovski said the government of the 
United States was just as bad, levying taxes and car- 
rying on war. It was a tyranny, and should be wiped 
away. Then there would be a brand-new concern, 
invented and put together by such men as Palovski. 
Under this there would be no war, no soldiers, no 
police, no prisons, no judges, and, above all, no rich 
men. All men would be expected to work a little, 
but all would do so without wages, for they would be 
supported by the government. 


It was evident that Barry had heard his queer ac- 
quaintance talk before, but never so freely and fully, 
nor so fiercely; for Palovski's bitterest wrath had 
been stirred up by the fact that he was now in danger 
of being drafted into the army. He explained to 
Barry just how it was — how there were not men 
enough volunteering to fill up the army ; how all the 
men in the land fit for soldiers were hunted out by 
government officers, and lists of them made: how, 
when men were wanted, their names were taken 
from these lists by a kind of lottery, and each man 
drawn in the lottery would have to go, unless he 
could pay three hundred dollars or find another man 
to go in his place. So, said Palovski, a man who 
had plenty of cash could get out, while the men 
who had none must go and be killed in a war they 
hated and for a tyrant government they did not care 
to sustain. 

"That means you," said Barry, thoughtfully. "It 
doesn't mean father or me. I hate the war, but I'm 
going soon's I'm old enough." 

"Oh!" said Palovski, "you wait and get into camp 
and be drilled. I was there. You be flog once " 

"I'd kill any man that flogged me!" exclaimed 
Barry. "They don't flog men in our army. You 
were in Europe." 

That was true, but he was willing to hear, as they 


went on together uptown, all that Palovski had to 
tell him of the terrors of military discipline. 

While Barry was getting that part of an answer to 
his question about war, the returned veterans and 
their music and their splendid escort had marched on 
up the avenue. All along their line of march there 
were crowds of people to welcome them, and there 
were flags hung out of the houses. It was a proud 
day for all that was left of that brave band of vol- 

So it seemed to be, too, for a great many of the 
people who watched them from the sidewalk, as if 
whatever glory had been won was being cut up like a 
cake and passed around for all who wanted some to 
take a piece. 

At last they wheeled to cross through a narrow 
street to reach another avenue. The escort had to 
fold up its ranks to do so, but the veterans did not. 
It was a street of pretty well-built houses, and it went 
up a moderate hill. There were only a few flags vis- 
ible, perhaps because nothing to bring them out was 
expected ; but at just about the middle of the block 
there was a very unlooked-for sensation. There was 
a high-stoop, brown-stone fronted house that carried 
two flags. One was a large, bright-looking Stars and 
Stripes, that was swung vigorously from a parlor 
window by a very bright-eyed, middle-aged woman. 


"Hurrah!" she shouted. "My husband's in the 
Forty-second !" 

"Halt!" exclaimed the officer in command of the 
veterans. " Now, boys, three cheers for her and for 
him! Three cheers for the boys in line and the 
women at home!" 

The men stood still as one man, rifle on shoulder 
and hat in hand, swinging to their enthusiastic cheers ; 
but at that moment a slight, bare-headed, girlish 
form stepped lightly out upon the stoop of the house. 
She, too, carried a flag, and she waved it with all her 
might as she shouted, in a clear but tremulous voice : 

"Hurrah for the Sunny South!" 

The flag she swung was not large, but it was brill- 
iant. It was a silken, tasselled Stars and Bars, the 
banner of the Confederacy. Just behind her, firm as 
a rock, and with a face full of defiance, stood another 
middle-aged woman, darker and taller than the first ; 
and she said: 

"My husband fell with Stonewall Jackson at Chan- 
cellorsville !" 

There was yet another form in the doorway, and 
one of a pair of large and very black hands was pull- 
ing at the woman's dress, while the other reached for 
that of the girl. 

"Lor' bress you, Missus Eandolph! You an' Miss 
Lily come into de house !" 

"iV^o you ain't, honey!" 


There were at once rude outcries among the rougher 
part of the people on the sidewalk, but the veteran 
officer sang out to his men : 

"Boys! she's all right! We're all soldiers. Three 
cheers for the plucky little reb that stood by her 
father's flag! One, two — now!" 

The brave fellows cheered with a will and a tiger-r 
and the girl waved her flag ; but her mother turned 
to go into the house, crying and saying : 

"God bless real soldiers, anyhow!" 

"Come into de house. Miss Lily!" 

"No, I won't, Diana. Not till they're all gone by." 

"Yes, you will, Miss Lily. That there crowd isn't 
all sojers. Dey's loafers in it. Dey might grab de 
flag. Come in!" 

"I swung it, anyhow!" she said, as she reluctantly 
yielded to Diana's urgency and her pulling. 

Large and strongly-made was Diana Lee, and at 
the next instant she stepped quickly out past Lilian 
Eandolph and asked of a fellow who was already half- 
way up the steps : 

"Wot you want heah?" 

"I want that Confed flag! I'm a-going to have 
it, too." 

"No, you ain't, honey!" replied the mellow, mocking 
voice of Diana. " You kin go right down de steps, or 
I'll help ye. You ain't any kine of sojer. You's one 


of dem fellers 'at couldn't be hired to go. Hope de 
draf '11 git ye!" 

"Bring me that flag!" 

"No, ye don't, honey!" said Diana, as she squared 
herself before him and held a dangerous-looking black 
fist very near his nose. "You go an' f oiler de Stars 
an' Stripes aw'ile, an' I'll talk wid ye. Go an' fight 
somethin' more'n a little Virginny gal. Fight some 
o' the Virginny men!" 

"That's the talk!" came loudly up from the side- 
walk. " Give it to him, aunty ! Let him do his flag- 
snatching in a blue uniform." 

" Come in, Lilian !" It was Mrs. EandoljDh's voice, 
still intensely excited and defiant, but it was Diana 
who shoved them both before her and closed the door, 
throwing back at the fellow on the steps a bitterly 
sarcastic : 

"Loafer, go an' be a sojer!" 



'ES. REDDING did not close her window after 
the soldiers and the crowd went by. She 
only drew in her flag and stood it up in a 
corner, where it seemed to rest and look at 
her. She had not yet taken her eyes from it, 
and there was a bright flush on her face. It 
almost seemed as if she and the flag were talking, 
while a heavy step came in at the outer door and 
through the hall into the parlor. 

"Mrs. Redding," rasped a harsh, menacing voice, 
"I don't care to have any extreme p'litical demon- 
strations in any haouse that b'longs to me!" 

"Mr. Hunker!" exclaimed Mrs. Redding, in aston- 
ishment. "Why, what do you mean? This house is 
mine so long as I pay for it. Mrs. Randolph is a 
Southern woman, sir. She is a soldier's widow. She 
can wave her flag if she wishes." 

The flush on her face had grown deeper, and Lilian 
was thinking: 

"How handsome she is!" 



"That isn't what I mean," repHed Mr. Hunker. 
"I'm agin the Linkin government myself. Jest don't 
you swing out no more cussed Union flags!" 

"I'll do as I please, and I don't care to hear that 
kind of talk." 

" No, ye won't ! not in any haouse of mine. I know 
haow you're doin' in your boardin' -haouse business. 
You can't pay your rent, and you've got to, or break 
the lease. I won't let up on ye. It's only half what 
I can git naow. I've another tenant ready." 

"He won't get it, then," responded Mrs. Eedding, 
with energy; "and you can leave this house." 

"I want to see that lady from the Saouth," said 
Mr. Hunker. "I'm landlord here. The Saouth has 
its friends in New Yoark." 

Mrs. Randolph and Lilian had retreated into the 
back parlor already, and now a voice came that 
sounded as if two had begun to speak and one had 
finished it : 

"We don't want to see him, Mrs. Eedding." 

"Leave the house, Mr. Hunker," repeated Mrs. 
Redding. "You'll get your rent when the time 

"I don't knaow 'bout that, but don't ye swing no 
more flags!" 

Just then some man at the door shouted: 

"Come along, Hunker! I can't wait." 


"I'm coming,-' replied the well-dressed but very 
coarse-looking, unpleasant-voiced friend of the South, 
turning to go; and he added to Mrs. Eedding, "Mind, 
naow, you'll pay or quit!" 

Hardly was he out before there stood Mrs. Eandolph 
with tears in her eyes. 

"You have been so good and kind, but I'm getting 
desperate. I can't run in debt to you any more. My 
money's all gone, and I don't know when any more 
will come. They watch so closel}^ Nobody can get 
through the lines. You can't keep boarders for noth- 
ing. It's two months " 

"How I wish we were back in old Virginia!" 
mourned Lilian. 

"I've thought of all that," said Mrs. Eedding, and 
neither of them noticed that she had picked up the 
flag and was smoothing it affectionately, with a far- 
away look on her face. 

"You and Lilian can go right along till your help 
comes. We'll manage it somehow. I've part of the 
rent ready." 

"But how can we stay?" said Mrs. Eandolph. 

"You've nowhere else to go," replied her landlady. 
" I have to be out of doors a good deal. You and she 
can help me care for the house and see that I'm not 

" There's a great deal of waste," said Mrs. Eandolph, 


thoughtfully. "There always is in a boarding-house, 
I suppose." 

"That's my trouble," replied Mrs. Redding, "and 
everything costs so in paper money. It takes twice 
as much to live as it used to. Barry must find some- 
thing to do, or I can't make both ends meet. A dol- 
lar's less than half a dollar nowadays." 

"It's worse than that down South," said Lilian. 
"Oh, dear! when will this war be over?" 

" We won't worry. It's got to end some time. My 
part of it's right here," said Mrs. Redding. 

Mr. Palovski, walking with Barry, at that moment 
flourished his hand and remarked, dramatically: 

" The war and the goffernment are breaking down ! 
This draft is the end of both of them. It is a tax for 
men ! For so much blood ! It is tyranny, my poy ! 
It will not be collected. You will see. We will not 
be drafted." 

His dark face grew fiercer and more scowling. His 
eyes seemed to flash fire. He even looked like a 
larger man. 

Barry did not yet quite understand the draft and 
how it was to be done, but he could understand that 
a barber earning good wages, not much of an Ameri- 
can anyhow, might be ready to run away if the 
government were reaching out to make a soldier of 


"Here's your shop," was all the reply he made, 
however, and Palovski strutted into it, leaving him 
upon the sidewalk. 

"They'll have to go if they're wanted," Barry said 
to himself. "But what's mother going to do for 
money? She'll lose the house if she can't pay her 
rent. I must do something. But I'm glad father's 
in the war." 

Just then a very loud, shrill voice shouted into his 
right ear : 

"A-axtry! 'Erld! Great battle on the P'to- 
mick !" 

Barry whirled around like a top, but no paper was 
held out to him ; neither was there much of anything 
else, except a wonder that so much voice should 
come from so small and slim a boy. He must have 
been made up mainly of throat and lungs. Well, he 
did have a very wide mouth. He was built, perhaps, 
all over with reference to his mouth, and he was 
therefore just the kind of fellow to sell newspapers. 

"Is that you. Kid?" said Barry. "Where are all 
your papers?" 

"Sold 'em all," replied the newsboy, cheerfully. 
" Made seventy-five cents since breakfast. Goin' home 
to dinner." 

"That's just what I'll do," exclaimed Barry; but 
he was not thinking of dinner, for he added : 


"I've got to do something to help mother. I'll 
pitch in and sell papers." 

"Well," said Kid, a little doubtfully, "I dunno. 
Mebbe you can do it. Get her to give you a dollar to 
start on. Some fellers just can't, though." 

"Why," said Barry, "I should think any fellow 
could sell newspapers. It's easy enough." 

"Now is it?" said Kid, with energy. "You try it 
on and see 'f it is. No kind of whiner'll make a good 

"I'm no kind of whiner," replied Barry, with some 

"I know you ain't," said Kid, looking up at him 
in a fatherly way. "You might do. Tell you what, 
though ! if I can get at a man so I can hoot into his 
ear I can sell him every time — startle him out o' five 
cents. You can screech good. When you set out, 
though, take a 'sortment." 

"What's that?" asked Barry. 

"Why," explained Kid, "it's the same thing, 
mornin' or evenin'. Some fellers don't care what 
they buy, if it's news; but mostly a Tribune feller 
won't take a World or a Her- Id, and some on 'em '11 
turn away from you if you haven't the Times or the 
Sun. It's just so in the afternoon. A feller that 
wants the Post or the Commershil ' JVse?''ll give you 
a lickin' if you try the Express on him. Anyhow, 

The spy on Wall Street. 


soon's your first lot's out, don't you yell anything but 
extrys, no matter what you've got. Everybody wants 
battles, and so they all want extrys." 

"That's so," nodded Barry. 

"Tell you what," said Kid, "I can tell a feller's 
politics soon's I see him, but 'twon't do to make a 
mistake. You bet it won't! If his side's winnins:, 
though, he may give you a quarter." 

They had talked until they were in front of Mrs. 
Bedding's, and they separated there; but not until 
Barry had agreed to go downtown with Kid Vogel 
right away after dinner. 

All the while that Barry had been walking and 
talking a very different kind of boy had been walking 
in another part of the city. It was not a very wide 
street. There w^as a stone church, with a tall spire 
and a clock, at one end of it ; and the other end ran 
into the water, or rather it was covered over with a 

The buildings were of brick or stone, and some of 
them were handsome. All along where the boy was 
walking the signs on either side said " Bank, " " Bank, " 
"Banker," "Broker," or something of that sort; and 
the boy seemed to be studying them. 

It was not easy to guess what business so black and 
so ragged a boy could have to do in Wall Street, or 
with bankers or brokers ; but nobody asked him any 


questions. He went along looking up at the signs, 
and his face wore a wearied, anxious expression. It 
brightened suddenly as he exclaimed : 

"Washington Vernon & Co., Bankers. I'll go 
right in." 

Up the stone steps he went, and in another moment 
he was inside of the door of an elegant business office, 
asking : 

"Please, sah, is Mars' Vernon in?" 

" Get out, you black imp !" replied a surprised growl 
from behind a counter. "What do you want here?" 

There was no question but that he looked remarka- 
bly out of place, but he persisted : 

"Yes, sah, if you please, I want to see Mars' Wash- 
ington Vernon." 

He spoke respectfully, but in so clear and loud a 
voice that he was heard through an open door by 
somebody in a room behind that office. It was a kind 
ot financial business parlor, apparently. A tall, old- 
looking man arose quickly from his chair at a desk 
and shouted : 

" Simpson ! show him in !" 

"Humph!" exclaimed Simpson. "This isn't any 
place for niggers. They ought to be all killed, any- 
how. What does old Vernon want of a scarecrow 
like that?" The growl he began in had been half- 
suppressed, but it grew louder as he added : " Go right 


in, Charcoal! Mr. Vernon is in there. Two more 
like you'd make the room so dark I'd have to light 
the gas." 

He was a burly, middle-aged man, with a red neck- 
tie and a diamond pin; and no doubt he was born 
with a right to be brutal to poor black boys. 

The boy he had now been brutal to did not reply to 
him, but walked on into the other room. The tall 
old man stood by his desk, with a look of sharp, 
watchful interest upon his face. 

"Is you Mars' Vernon?" asked the boy. 

"My name is Washington Vernon. What is your 

"Oh!" said the boy, speaking low, "I's no name at 
all. I's on'y got lef." 

"Eight!" said Mr. Vernon. "Now let me see if 
you have. Hand it to me!" 

How he did watch that boy! He, too, looked in 
the banker's face as he went to the desk and put down 
his left hand, palm up, with its fingers spread out in 
a pecuHar way, and said, "Stone." 

Mr. Vernon at once put down his own left hand, 
across the small black hand, in the same fashion, 
and said, "Wall." 

The boy followed with his right hand, and said, 
"Jack;" and the banker's right hand followed as 
he added, "Son." 


"Shenandoah," said the boy. 

"That'll do!" exclahned Mr. Vernon; "but the 
next word will be Susquehanna. It won't be long, 

"No, sah," said the boy quickly, while the banker 
stepped to the door and shut and bolted it; "but it's 
de Hudson, sah, an' de lakes. Dey's a-comin' !" 

He was rapidly pulling off his coat as he spoke. It 
was rusty and ragged, but it had a lining; and there 
was a slit in this at the collar, and out of that slit the 
boy drew a long, thin packet covered with india-rubber 
cloth. He handed it to Mr. Vernon, saying : 

"I tole de gin'ral I's gwine to give ye that. You's 
jis one ob ouah folks. Now I's got anoder erran' to 
do uptown. Eeckon I'd bes' be gwine." 

"Come here to-morrow, anyhow," said the banker, 
commandingly. "I'll know what to do by that 

"All right. Mars' Vernon! Eeckon ye will. I'll 
come," said the boy. 

"There's ten dollars," began the banker. "That's 
for current expenses. I'll let you have more." 

"No, you won't. Mars' Vernon," replied the boy, 
not holding out any hand for the money. " I's got 
enough. I's gwine to come an' see you agin to- 
morrow. I's a gen'lman, I is." 

Mr. Vernon was an astonished man, but only his 


face said so. It was indeed a wonder — a black boy of 
that size and rig absolutely refusing to take a ten- 
dollar bill ! But all he said was : 

"Go ahead, then, but don't fail to come. I shall 
be here all day." 

"I's a-comin', suah," said the queer youngster; 
and he seemed to be even in haste as he went out into 
the street. 

"I am glad that is done," he remarked to himself 
on the sidewalk. "If I'm caught now, they can't 
fairly shoot me. Not for anything they'd find on 
me. They might shoot old Vernon, though, or hang 

However that might be, the banker was now sitting 
at his desk, and was reading with seemingly intense 
interest one of several written papers which he had 
taken out of the black boy's packet. Mr. Simpson, 
meantime, was busy with other men in the outer office. 

Up at Mrs. Eedding's the noonday meal, or "lunch," 
was not so important as that which was eaten at six 
o'clock, when the masculine boarders came home from 
business. This latter was apt to last a long time, for 
some of them were sure to come late ; and that was 
one more reason why Mrs. Eedding was glad to have 
help from Mrs. Eandolph. One woman, she said, 
was not enough to run so large a household. 

"Lilian," said her mother at noon, just before they 


went downstairs, "I don't care if Mrs. Redding is 
a Yankee; she is a noble, generous-hearted woman." 

"So she is, mother," said Lilian, with emphasis. 
"She's in trouble, too. I'm glad I swung that flag, 
anyhow! Soldiers are splendid!" 

"So am I," said Mrs. Randolph. "Come! That 
boy Barry ought to be doing something. He's old 

"I'm glad he isn't old enough to be a soldier," said 
Lilian. "I'm glad the North can't get any more 
men. There's more chance for the South." 

There was evidently a great deal of war spirit in 
that house, but they all thought better of Barry be- 
fore luncheon was over. He talked about the veterans 
and about the flag-swinging, and he even mentioned 
Mr. Palovski and the draft ; but he had ten times as 
much to say concerning Kid Vogel and the fortunes 
that were to be made by newsboys. His mother heard 
him in a kind of thoughtful silence, until Lilian 
remarked : 

"Why, do newsboys really make money? I mean, 
anything much? Such a lot of little, ragged " 

"Some of them do," interrupted Barry. "Smart 
fellows, like Kid." 

"Barry!" sharply exclaimed Mrs. Redding. "Go 
ahead! It can't be helped. You can earn your own 
clothes, anyhow." 


"I believe I can," said Barry cheerfully; "and I 
mean to get a suit that's three sizes too large and 
just grow into it." 

"Ha! ha!" laughed Lilian. "I would, if I were 

That was nearly the end of the talk. He ate the 
rest of his lunch in a hurry, and then he darted out 
of the house, with a dollar in his pocket, saying to 
himself : 

"Palovski says there oughtn't to be any capital, 
but if mother hadn't some how'd I get set up in the 
news business?" 

So far his new idea seemed to be getting along very 
well ; but it was not so with the ideas and purposes of 
all other people. 

If any boy, for instance, who has never before been 
in a great city sets out all alone to find one particular 
house in it, he may have his difficulties cut out for 
him. It does not help him at all, moreover, if he is 
poor and black and shabby-looking. The black boy 
who had called at Vernon & Co. 's walked away from 
the banking office briskly. 

"Mr. Simpson called me Charcoal," he remarked. 
" Well, one name's as good as another. I can find 
that place. I know I can; but it's away uptown. I 
guess I won't walk — I'll ride." 

He was already going up Broadway, and nobody 


paid him any attention so long as he walked steadily 
along with the kind of everlasting procession that 
walks there during business hours. Opposite the City 
Hall, however, he stood still, considering with himself : 

"I wish I knew which street-car to take." 

At that instant he was whirled around by a shock 
that staggered him, and heard : 

"Get out o' the way. Nig! I want to catch that 

Another shock seemed to catch him, and he was 
propelled against a lamp-post with some vigor by a 
big man who said : 

"Mind whom you run against. Sooty! Take that." 

The black boy glanced this way and that, in breath- 
less indignation. 

" I daren't say a word !" he exclaimed. "Euffians! 
Brutes! Dressed like gentlemen, too! Can't they 
tell? — no, they can't! I'll just hurry and take any 
uptown car." 

He walked fast across the open si)ace, and tried 
hard to do as he had said. He saw car after car 
pause to take in passengers who motioned to the 
drivers to stop, and he himself not only motioned but 
shouted ; and it was as if he had hurried them along. 

"Why won't they stop?" he exclaimed. "Now I'll 
get into this one. 'Tisn't full." 

It was not, and he succeeded in boarding it and in 


being carried along for some distance. The conductor 
was collecting fares forward, however; and just as 
he reached the place where Charcoal — if that was to 
be his name — held out a five-cent slip of paper cur- 
rency, a man exclaimed loudly : 

"Put him out, conductor!" 

And another added : 

"We don't want any cause-o' -the- war in this car. 
Out with him ! He's a blackbird." 

"Get right out!" said the conductor, putting a 
hand on Charcoal's collar. 

"No, I won't! I've as good a right — I'm a gen- 
tleman " 

There the black boy suddenly stopped, and seemed 
in double haste to escape from that car and from the 
storm of derisive utterances which replied to him. 

The car did not entirely stop to let him off, and his 
jump from it sent him too far. It sent him against 
two neatly-dressed young fellows who were crossing 
the street ; and one of them sent him on into a heap 
of dusty street-sweepings. He arose from it looking 
worse than ever, just as a woman on the sidewalk 
exclaimed : 

"Do look at that contraband! Why, he's a scare- 
crow ! That fellow ought to have been ashamed of 
himself to have kicked him, though." 

Through all his blackness it could be seen that 


Charcoal was furiously angry. He seemed to swell 
with wrath as he shook his fist after those two trim- 
looking youths, but he was silent, except that he half - 
whispered : 

"I must bear it! Kicked! cuffed! blackguarded! 
Well, I knew this trip would cost me something. 
Hurrah for General Lee! He's coming!" 



HE barber- shop in which Mr. Palovski was 
employed was two squares away from Mrs. 
Bedding's. He was in it after dinner, but 
he was not shaving anybody. It was not 
the time of day for a rush of customers, and 
he was busied only with a lot of razors, a hone, 
and a strop. 

If the razors needed sharpening, he did not; but 
it seemed to do him inward good to bring each of 
them in turn to the finest kind of edge. It was not 
altogether because they would then do easier work 
upon men's faces, for at last he said to another bar- 
ber who was standing near him folding towels : 

" There ! that would cut the throat of the goffern- 
ment, if I had it in the right place." 

Barry had a private interview with his mother, 
and went downtown in a street-car. He hardly 
saw or heard anything in the car, for all his thoughts 
had gone away ahead of him, and he did not catch 

up with them until he reached City Hall Square and 



looked up at the signs of the newspapers which dotted 
the fronts of almost all the buildings of Park Row. 

"That's why they call it Newspaper Eow," he said. 
"There's just lots of them. Glad they're not all 
dailies, though." 

He was out of the car when he said it, and there 
was Kid waiting for him. 

"Hullo, Barry!" said Kid, in a moderate tone of 
voice — for him. "There won't be any papers to-day, 
of any 'count, till three o'clock. Not 'nless there's a 
two-o'clock extry." 

"Will there be one?" asked Barry, fingering his 
dollar bill. "I want to begin." 

" Dunno, " said Kid, thoughtfully. " But it's a good 
day for us. There's a big battle gittin' ready for us, 
but you can't say just when it'll git here. All the 
millish are goin' out to fight in it. Seventh, Twelfth, 
Ninth — oh, all of 'em! There won't be any sojers 
left in the city. They're goin' all day to-day an' to- 
night. Most of 'em are gone. Oh, but won't there 
be extrys to sell while they're a-fightin' !" 

"Loads!" exclaimed Barry, but Kid added: 

"Besides, old Grant, he's gittin' himself awfully 
licked at Vicksburg. He's got to let go of the reb 
army there." 

" No, he hasn't, " interrupted Barry, sharply, " I've 
read about that. He's going to fight them till they 


give in. There's a Southern girl, though, up at our 
house — she and her mother say General Lee's coming 
right on to take New York. He's going to take Bal- 
timore and Philadelphia first, and then he's coming 
right on here — unless he gets himself whipped so bad 
he can't." 

Kid seemed just then to be squirming a little over 
an idea which had come to him. 

"Well, I hope he won't," he said. "First thing 
he'd do after he got here he'd shut up all the news- 
papers. They're all against him nowadays, worse'n 
they are against old Grant for gittin' used up at 
Vicksburg. I guess he'd let some of 'em go on print- 
in', though, so's he could git papers for himself, if 
they'd on'y come out Confed instead of Union." 

It was pretty plain that Kid had no narrow preju- 
dices either way, and that he would be contented 
with any result of the war which did not interfere 
with the sale of newspapers. It was only a minute, 
however, before he broke out with : 

"Come on, Barry! You've got to get posted 'bout 
things on Wall Street." 

"I've been there," said Barry. "I know all about 

" Come on, " said Kid. " I'll show you suthin'. " 

Off they went, and Barry shortly found that Kid 
knew what he went for. The first thing he pointed 


out after they got there was the Stock Exchange, with 
a crowd of men in front of it. 

"See 'em!" said Kid. "When there's news, and 
when gold is teetering up and down, and when stocks 
are bobbing every which way, then's your time to sell 
papers! Hoot 'axtry' at 'em, and they'd buy an old 
sheet o' wrappin' paper. But lots o' fellers pitch 
right down here soon's any paper's out. You've got 
to race it to get here first. Now, come on!" 

On they went, and Kid seemed to feel like lectur- 
ing; but right in the middle of something he was 
saying about "extrys" he halted. 

"Look there!" he said. "But if Lee's army got 
here they'd gobble it all." 

The place they paused before was a money "ex- 
change office," with a large show-window. 

"See?" said Kid. "All sorts. It's where they 
take in immigrants, too. Give 'em greenbacks and 
fracksh'n'l currency for all their gold and silver. 
See the gold piled up?" 

"Yes," said Barr}^, staring at the gold. "But 
our money's as good as theirs is. It passes here." 

"'Course it does, " replied Kid, "but it takes two 'n 
a half of our dollars, and more too, to make a gold or 
silver dollar. Look at them white bills. Thafs 
reg'lar English. Bank of England, I know. Them 
others are German and all sorts." 


No doubt the paper was money, but the gold and 
silver corns were what took Barry's eye ; and it seemed 
to him as if he could hardly remember ever havino- 
touched one. 

"Fives, tens, twenties," he said. "Tell you what. 
Kid! all that gold is just beautiful. Look at the 
silver, too. It can't come out till the war's over, 

"Come on!" suddenly exclaimed Kid. "There's 
somethin' goin' on!" 

They went back and looked for a moment. The 
crowd of men on the sidewalk in front of the Stock 
Exchange were shouting and gesticulating almost 

"There's news o' some kind," said Kid, "or they 
wouldn't be cuttin' up like that. Tell you what. 
Shiner Murphy's goin' to buy the Express for him 
and me. I'll go for the Post. You go for the C'mer- 
shiPd ' Vertiser. We'll get the first lots and divide 
'round, so we can spot any kind of feller. Shiner'U 
get in 'mong the first. He's a kind of eel." 

He might be, and Barry determined to be another; 
but there were jams of boys in front of all the evening 
newspaper offices. There were men waiting behind 
the counters and there was a kind of system for get- 
ting the papers distributed rapidly. 

Almost at the same moment, down from the upper 


story of each of those tall buildings, came great 
batches of freshly-printed papers. There were tussles, 
twists, scrambles, and then the boys had the papers ; 
and every boy began to yell his loudest the moment 
he squirmed out of the jam. 

There were three who almost ran against each other 
on a street-corner. 

"Trade quick, boys, "said Shiner Murphy, excitedly. 
"I've sold five a'ready. They'll go like hot cakes!" 

"Wall Street!" exclaimed Kid, as he and Barry 
arranged their assortments ; and it did seem to Barry 
as if he had never before in his life been so excited as 
he was when he dashed away, shouting : 

"Here's your Evening Post, Express, ^Vertiser! 
Great battle on the Potomac ! News from Vicksburg, 
Grant, Lee's army, city o' Washington! Axtry! — 
yes, sir, five cents — all right !" 

" Go it, Barry !" shouted Kid. " You'll do. Won't 
you be hoarse to-morrer, though!" 

"Oh, but can't you hoot!" said Barry. 

The energy and foresight and enterprise of Kid 
were indeed about to be rewarded. He and Barry 
and the Shiner were the first detachment of news- 
boys to reach Broad Street with the evening papers. 
The crowd in front of the Stock Exchange and its 
Gold Eoom was denser than ever and was more 
furiously excited. 

Barry's first lesson at selling newspapers. 


"Now, Shiner," said Kid, "you pitch in on this side. 
Barry can run around below, and I'll take 'em in the 
middle. Whoop!" 

There was a whole lot of mixed yelling from each 
boy. It broke off into rapid sales of papers to excited 
men of all kinds and all parties. Barry's first idea 
was that his papers would all be gone in a wink. His 
next was that there were now about as many news- 
boys as there were stock-brokers and speculators, and 
that some of the new-comers had throats equal to that 
of Kid Vogel — almost. 

"Boys!" he heard him shout, "cut for Broad- 
way !" 

They were just getting out of that crowd when Kid 
added : 

"Go in, Barry! You'll do first-rate; but you're 
awful slow and careful 'bout makin' change. I 
saw " 

"No, I ain't. I know what you mean," said Barry. 
" 'T wasn't a cent he dropped. 'Twas a gold eagle. 
He said he kept it so he shouldn't forget how it looked. 
Gave me a quarter for finding it." 

" Served you right !" said Kid. " Po-o-ost ! " 

"Can't he?" said Shiner, admiringly. "Why, 
when his mouth's open his head's half off." 

On they went, and Barry was ahead, for he was the 
best runner of the three ; but somehow or other Kid 


could sell more papers. They were all out quickly, 
and had to go for a fresh sujDply. 

"Twice as much money as I started with," said 
Barry. "Part of it's that quarter, but I'll load up 
and sell 'em all the way home. General Lee's doing 

There could be no doubt but that the great Con- 
federate general was stirring up the people of the 
North tremendously. The papers sold so fast because 
everybody was eager to know what he would do next. 
All the soldiers President Lincoln could gather, more- 
over, were on their way to meet the Southern army; 
and all the world knew that about the hardest battle 
of the war was very nearly at hand. 

Some thought they knew more than others about 
what was coming, but some of the most knowing on 
both sides of the war were the most in doubt. Two 
men of that kind sat in the back office of Washington 
Vernon & Co. , Bankers, with the door shut and bolted. 
Before them, spread on the table, were the papers 
brought to Mr. Vernon by the ragged boy his book- 
keeper had called Charcoal. 

"What do you think, Mr. Mapleson?" asked Mr. 
Vernon. " How nearly are we ready to make our 
New York rising? They seem to expect a great deal 
of us — none too much!" 

"Not a bit too much!" said Mr. Mapleson. "We 


are ready now. If Lee will accomplish his part, I 
can do mine. I can have a provisional government 
in charge of New York, with all the forts and shij)s, 
and the Treasury, and the banks, and so forth, in my 
hands before he gets here. There's hardly enough 
men to mount guard in the forts nov/. Just one 
thing's in the way." 

He was a dignified-looking, elderly man, with a 
stiff white mustache and cold, piercing blue eyes. 

"What's that?" asked Mr. Vernon. "What can- 
not General Lee do?" 

"He hasn't men enough," said Mr. Mapleson. "A 
hundred thousand isn't enough. He must win two 
victories, you see. He must win one over the Army 
of the Potomac before the day for the draft. Then 
about that time he must win another over all that's 
left of that army, with all the militia re-enforcements. 
If he will do that, or if he will win only one genuine 
sweeping victory, we can do the rest easily. Send 
your black boy back and tell General Lee just what I 
say. New York City will rise against the Lincoln 
government on the day fixed for enforcing the draft, 
if he will give us one victory. Can you trust your 
messenger? Even a cipher dispatch would be full of 

"He will be here again to-morrow," said Mr. 
Vernon, "and I will decide. I could not let him 


stay in this office to-day, you know, for more than a 
minute or so." 

" Of course not, " replied Mr. Mapleson ; and his voice 
grew deep and stern as he added : "I can take full 
possession of New York between twelve o'clock, mid- 
night, and daylight of any day we agree upon after 
Lee wins his victory." 

He took his hat and went out, and Mr. Vernon 
looked after him, remarking: 

"There isn't a doubt of it! Ferdinand Mapleson 
could make a tremendous name for himself. He is a 
strong man. He could take the city; and then he 
could govern it well. And some people would call 
him a statesman and a patriot, and others, if they 
were beyond his reach, would call him by quite another 
name. They'd call him a traitor! They'd hang him, 

There were all sorts of opinions, therefore, about 
the war, and about the men who were carrying it on 
and the deeds they were doing or planning. Up at 
Mrs. Bedding's boarding-house all things had gone on 
very quietly for a little while after dinner. Then, 
however, Diana Lee, in the kitchen, was startled by 
a loud ringing of the basement door bell. 

"Thar!" she exclaimed. "That ar' good-fer-nuffin 
gal's somewhar' upstars. Eeckon I'll 'tend doah my- 


To do SO was evidently somewhat below her idea of 
her own dignity and duty, but she went. Hardly had 
she opened the door, before she exclaimed : 

"Sho! w'ot you want heah, you brack vagabon'? 
Jes' you git out, now!" 

She saw before her a very, very black boy, of per- 
haps about Barry's age, who wore a very dirty, 
ragged suit of butternut-colored clothing. He also 
seemed to wear an air of mystery and secrecy as he 
replied : 

"Hush up, aunty! Does you know anybody roun' 
heah by de name of Eandolph?" 

"Dis is whar dey board," she replied, eying him 
from head to foot suspiciously. "Who's you, any- 
how? I's Diana Lee." 

"I's glad yoii's Dinah Lee," he said. "I doesn't 
b'long to de Lees. I's a Eandolph. Jes' you tell 'em 
Uncle John sent me. I wouldn't ha' foun' de house, 
but I heard a feller tell 'bout Missy Lilian swung de 

Diana stared hard at him. She noticed that his 
hair was cut close to his head, so that his hat came 
down and covered nearly all of it, and that he was a 
decidedly handsome black boy, with a Koman nose 
and a jaunty way of holding up his head. 

"Bress your soul, honey!" she said, at the end of 
her survey. "Reckon I know w'ot's w'ot. I'll tell 


'em, right off. Dey's all good folks in dis house, 
now, I tell ye! Don't ye be 'feared ob Miss Eedding." 

"I will stay down here in the entry," he said in a 
low, clear voice, as Diana hurried upstairs with her 

She did not have to go further than the parlor before 
she met Lilian and her mother and whispered eagerly : 

"Hark to me, now! I's got somethin' to tell ye, I 
has. You's got news from de Souf! Thah's a young 
feller heah from yer Uncle John. Jes' a kine o' col- 
ored boy. He's down at de doah." 

"0 mother!" whispered Lilian. "Let me go and 
see him !" 

"Be still, dear!" said Mrs. Eandolph. "If he is 
from your Uncle John the other side would call him 
a spy." 

"No, dey wouldn't," protested Diana. " Why, sho ! 
he's a heap bracker'n I be. Dey don't mind de col- 
ored folks comin' through." 

Perhaps not, but Lilian had gone past her like a 
flash, and was already half-way down the stairs and 
her mother was trying to catch up with her before 
Diana was out of the parlor. 


"Davis Eandolph! You here?" 

"Davis! my son!" 



Their arms were around him and they kissed him 
frantically, but in a moment more he managed to say : 

" Mother, this was the only way I could get through 
the Federal lines. They watch for spies, you know. 
But I had to come and see you and Lilian. IVe 
brought loads of news, too — soon's we get where I 
can tell it." 

"0 my son, my son!" sobbed Mrs. Eandolph. 
"What a terrible risk for you to run!" 

"Dave!" exclaimed Lilian, "I'm as proud of you 
as I can be; but I'm glad Diana went to the door." 

"Eeckon she did!" came from a fiercely enthusias- 
tic voice behind them. "You kin jes' trus' Dinah! 
Do you s'pose I'd hurt 'im? I's one ob de ole sort, I 
is! I's a Lee!" 

She was proud enough of that family fact, but not 
so much so of another, for she added : 

"How he did fool me, dough! Tell ye w'ot. Mars' 
Eandolph ! now you isn't a cuUud pusson you's got to 
lookout fob youself. De army folks'd shet ye up, 

"Mrs. Eandolph!" was exclaimed excitedly at that 
moment, as Mrs. Eedding herself came down the 

"0 Mrs. Eedding!" replied Mrs. Eandolph. "My 
only son! He made his way through the lines to 
come and see his mother, " 


"God bless him!" said Mrs. Redding fervently. 
"We will do all we can. Take him upstairs right 

"And get the black off," said Lilian. "I'm just 
wild to have a good look at him." 

"And I'll go out and get him some clothes," said 
his excited mother. " They mustn't find him in dis- 
guise, and say he's a spy." 

"Oh, nonsense!" said Mrs. Redding. "They won't 
care how he came. He can't hurt the army. Don't 
I know what my husband would say?" 

"You're just as good as you can be," said Lilian, 
"but I'm glad the black'll come off." 

"I should say it would!" laughed Mrs. Redding. 
"Some of it's on your face now; and look at your 
mother's !" Diana was already chuckling over that 
fact so vigorously that nobody could make out what 
she was saying. 

"Why, Lilian!" exclaimed Mrs. Randolph, "that's 
so! Come, Davis — come right along with me!" 

In a few seconds more Mrs. Redding was alone. 
She held a paper in her hand, and she looked at it as 
she said to herself, in an almost bewildered way : 

"Her son! How strange it all is! But I don't see 
what we are all going to do if Mr. Hunker takes the 
house. I thought I could pay him any time before 
the end of the quarter. I could have paid him up 


before this if all of them had paid me. Turn us all 
into the street? The old villain! He can't and he 
shan't! I'll manage it somehow. We'll see! Some- 
thing will come. I'm sure it will." 

She looked very courageous for a moment, and 
then she turned and went upstairs with a slow, wea- 
ried step and an air of despondency. She was in a 
kind of war with circumstances, and in this particular 
battle of it she was sadly in need of re-enforcements. 



'RS. RANDOLPH and Lilian took Davis up 

to their own room, declaring somewhat 

excitedly that they "would make him look 

like a gentleman before anybody had a 

chance to see him." 

The moment the door of the room closed 

behind them, however, they both stood still and 

looked at him. There did not seem to be anything to 

admire, for he had been shoved around and tumbled 

and dusted, until all that could be seen was a very 

dirty, ragged young black fellow. His face, indeed, 

was shining with delight, through all its coloring; 

while the faces of his mother and sister were putting 

on expressions of almost hopeless despair. 

"Why, we can't do anything for him!" burst from 

the lips of Lilian. "We haven't a penny!" 

"O Davis!" exclaimed his mother desperately. 

"I've no money! I can't get you any clothes. I 

can't even pay our board. If it hadn't been for Mrs. 

Redding What shall we do?" 

She was answered by a loud laugh of boyish exul- 



tation that made her and Lilian open their eyes with 
surprise, but Davis was fumbhng among what might 
be called the dark corners of his ragged coat, and was 
tearing open the waistband of his trousers. 

"Thousand dollars!" he shouted. "There! Part 
of it is from Uncle John, and part of it is from some of 
our tobacco that ran the Charleston blockade. Some 
of Uncle John's Carolina cotton got through, too." 

"Isn't that splendid?" said Lilian. "Dave, you're 
a darling! It's tod good to be true!" 

"Oh, my dear boy!" said his mother. "Now I can 
pay Mrs. Eedding. We owe her for nearly three 
months' board. But how do they get hold of green- 
backs down South?" 

"That's easy enough," said Dave, counting over 
the money. " Some come by way of England. We 
get some every time we win a victory. Besides, 
there's a heap of trading done right through the 
army lines. Anyhow, General Lee is going to be in 
New York in a few weeks. He is on his way. He is 
in the Shenandoah Valley, marching north." 

" Hurrah !" exclaimed Lilian, all but dancing. " Oh, 
if he will only come! Why, greenbacks? He'll get 
all there are here, and the North will have to pay the 
South back for what the war has cost. Isn't it grand?" 

"I guess they couldn't do that," said Dave, "but 
he is coming." 


"You are going to stay here " began Mrs. Ean- 


"Just a little," said Dave. "I can't tell. But 
Uncle John says there are harder times coming for 
both sides." 

"You're not going back?" said Lilian. 

"I've got to," said Dave, "but I must learn all I 
can first. It's a kind of scouting duty." 

All they wanted to say had to be cut off. The 
black boy had to go to the bath-room to change his 
complexion, while his mother and sister went out to 
buy him a suit of clothes. 

"I wonder what Barry will say," remarked Lilian, 
as they went. " He won't hurt Davis. But oh, how 
good it is! Think of General Lee coming up and 
taking New York! How splendid it will be to see 
our own flag everywhere, and our soldier-boys march- 
ing through the streets !" 

"Hush, Lilian!" said her mother. "Somebody 
might hear you." 

"Let's buy a paper," replied Lilian, "and see what 
news they are printing." 

They were not likely to have to wait long for a 
newsboy. One, in particular, was about to set out 
for his uptown business, and was getting some advice. 

"Barry," said the Shiner wisely, "don't you ever 
say 'xactly w'ot the news is. Keep them big-type 


black letters out where folks can see 'em. They all 
want to buy somethin' black." 

That may have been his notion partly because he 
was a boot-black whenever he was not a newsboy. 
That was where his name came from. 

"They're awful big and black to-day," said Barry; 
"and here I've been selling papers all day, and haven't 
read the news myself." 

"Who cares what it is?" remarked Kid Vogel. "I 
don't look at it half the time." 

Barry was looking, however, and reading; and it 
was a column almost altogether made up of big 
black lines : 



Siege of Vicksburg — England and France — The Blockade-Run- 
ners — General Grant — A Talk with President Lincoln — 
Army of the Potomac — Proposed Capture of Rich- 
mond — Fortifying Baltimore — Earthworks 
at Harrisburg — Naval Operations — 
Siege of Charleston — 

There has been no important change in the aspect 
of national or military affairs since our last edition, 
but all indications point to the immediate occurrence 
of startling events. 


"There!'' exclaimed Barry. "All the news is in 
small type, at the bottom; and there isn't any, any- 

"Don't them editors know?" asked Kid. "How'd 
we sell their extrys if they didn't give us a lift? We 
wouldn't have anything to holler," 

That was too plain for argument, and Barry set 
off, leaving his two friends to carry on a downtown 
business. It seemed to him that all the people he met 
wore anxious faces; and so many of them had five 
cents to spare that when he reached his own door he 
said aloud : 

"I declare! I haven't a paper left for mother! 
Well, there wasn't any news to speak of, and I've 
got some money to show her. She'll be glad of that." 

Not many minutes later be was looking into her 
face with intense interest, while she was telling him 
the very latest news ; and when she paused for breath, 
saying, "We must be careful and not hurt him," he 
exclaimed : 

"Hurt him! I hurt him? Now, mother, you tell 
Lily and Mrs. Randolph I'll take the best kind of care 
of him. I want to see him, though, and get him to 
tell me all about it. How did he get through? But, 
mother, I've made two dollars. Isn't it bully?" 

"Why," she said, "if you can do half as well as 
that, I'll be satisfied. If it wasn't for that rent ! Mr. 


Hunker sent a man with a written demand. I'm 
almost at my wits' end." 

There had been a ring at the door-bell, to which 
they had paid no attention, and the servant answering 
it had let in a man who at once strode right on into 
the parlor. 

"Mr. Hunker!" exclaimed Mrs. Eedding, indig- 
nantly, "you here again?" 

He had looked unpleasant enough the first time, 
but he looked ugly now. He was dressed expensively, 
to be sure, and he wore a diamond pin ; but no clothes 
or jewelry would have done much for him. He was 
short and heavy and wheezy, with a very red face, 
and he had kept his hat on. 

"Afternoon, Mrs. Bedding!" he said, with a tight- 
ening of his hard, clean-shaved lips. 

"Your notice came, sir," she said. "You needn't 
have called." 

There was a very defiant expression on her face, 
and another, a trifle angrier, was on that of Barry, 
as he looked at Mr. Hunker's threatening, frown- 
ing visage and heard him say : 

"Yes, ma'am, I did demand the rent. Now I find 
you can't pay it, all I've got to say is you must go. 
I've come to demand it, once for all, ma'am. Can 
you pay, or will you quit?" 

"Barry," whispered a voice behind him, "Mother 


says hand her that. Davis brought it. Tell her to 
pay him." 

Before Mrs. Eedding could command her voice 
sufficiently to reply, however, Barry himself stepped 
right past her. Mr. Hunker had held out a receipt 
ceremoniously when he demanded the rent, and it was 
now suddenly taken out of his hand. 

"There's your rent, Mr. Hunker," said Barry, rap- 
idly counting out the money; "and don't you speak 
to my mother in that way. Get out of the house ! 

Hunker's hand closed over the bills, but his mouth 
opened with astonishment. 

"I reckoned you couldn't pay, or I'd never have 
offered that receipt. You kin give it right back," 

"No, I won't," said Barry. "Take it, mother. 
Lilian handed me the money. He's paid up square. 
Now, Mr. Hunker, you can go." 

"I'll explain," said Mrs. Eandolph, from the back 
parlor. " Turn out that ruffian !" 

"Euffian?" echoed Mr. Hunker. "Did she say I 
was a ruffian?" 

" I do, " almost shouted Barry ; "and you're an old 
red Copperhead, too!" 

Mr. Hunker's mouth was opening and shutting, 
but he was beaten ; for Mrs. Eedding, with the receipt, 
had instantly hurried away, exclaiming: 

Barry tells 3Ir. Hunl^er he can go. 


"Why, Mrs. Eandolph! I'm so thankful." 

"You can go," repeated Barry to Hunker. 

"I'll get even with you, I will!" muttered the dis- 
appointed landlord, as he slowly walked out. " How 
could this 'ere thing have happened? She's losin' 

He was evidently studying hard upon his problem 
when Barry slammed the front door behind him, for 
his last words were: "And I hed an offer of nigh 
twicet as much for the haouse!" 

"You're Barry Eedding?" 

Barry turned from bolting the door, and out went 
his right hand eagerly. 

"You're Davis Eandolph?" he said — "Lilian's 
brother? Ain't I glad you got through! We'll all 
take care of you. " 

"Hear those boys! They're acquainted already," 
said Mrs. Eandolph in the back parlor. "0 Mrs. 
Eedding, I am so glad to be able to pay that 
board !" 

"I'm so glad you could," began Mrs. Eedding, but 
Lilian interrupted her with : 

"Barry's splendid! How he did turn out that old 
fellow !" 

"Barry's his father's son," said his mother proudly, 
and Mrs. Eandolph suddenly added : 

"They're both soldier-boys. Why, how strange it 


seems! How can those two boys be upon opposite 
sides? It's all wrong!" 

"Think of Davis and Barry," exclaimed Lilian, 
" being soldiers and having to shoot each other! I'm 
glad they're neither of them old enough." 

" I'm not glad," said Dave. " I wish I was a soldier 
now !" 

"So do I," said Barry; "but if I should take Dave 
a prisoner I'd treat him right. Tell you what, Dave — 
you're a kind of prisoner now. You're inside of our 

"I guess he's safe enough," said Mrs. Eedding. 

"But he's got to tell me everything," said Barry. 
" Come on, Dave. Mother says she's put up an extra 
bed in my room for you. It's a load better than being 
locked up in Fort Lafayette." 

"You can't lock him up," said Lilian. 

" You ought to be, anyhow," said Barry, blushing 
hard as he said it. "You're more Southern than 
he is." 

"I reckon not," said Davis; but off they went to- 
gether, for it was time for Mrs. Redding and her 
helpers to think of all the boarders who were soon to 
come in hungry. 

Outside of the house a man who had lingered in 
front of it looked up, with a face as red as one of its 
bricks, and muttered : 


"Well, if I wasn't dead sure she couldn't pay that 
rent ! It can't be she's really a-makm' money, keepin' 
boardin'-haouse in these times. I'll git her out, 
somehaow. I'd like to, I would — and that there lot 
o' Virginny rebs with her! That is, I won't say I 
would if Gineral Lee's reelly comin'. I'd want to be 
right side up if he did. I've on'y lied jist one con- 
tract from the Linkin gov'ment, and I somehow can't 
git no more. I know I could git one through Maple- 
son, if the Saouth was holdin' New York." 

That was a curious kind of evening at Mrs. Bed- 
ding's boarding-house. Somehow or other her board- 
ers were hardly able to get a glimpse of her, even 
when they tried to. The kitchen was deserted, too ; 
for Diana Lee did her last work like a steam-engine, 
and disappeared upstairs, remarking : 

"I jes' want to heah all he's got to say," for she 
had begged hard not to be counted out of a little 
family party that was to meet in Mrs. Eandolph's 
own room. 

It was a sort of questions-and-answers party, and 
it kept one of its members very busy all the time. At 
last Barry asked : 

"Now, Dave, did you ever see a whole army when 
it was all together?" 

"No, sir-ree!" said Dave. "Nobody ever did. It's 
too big. It's all over the country — on the roads, in 


its works, in the camps, behind hills and woods. You 
can't ever see an army. Well, yes, I kind o' saw 
Lee's army once — at night." 

"Saw it at night?" exclaimed Barry. 

"Nearest I ever came to it," said Dave. "I was 
just about leaving to come here, and Uncle John sent 
me up to the signal-station on the top of Black Cap 
Mountain with a message. When I got there I could 
look down and see the camp-fires as far as I could 
look — thousands of them." 

"It must have been grand!" said Lilian. 

"Oh, but wasn't it!" said Dave; "and so was the 
signal for all to move in the morning." 

"What was that?" asked Barry. 

" We set the woods at the top of the mountain on 
fire," said Dave. "Then away across the valley they 
ansv^^ered by setting Pine Gap Mountain on fire. It 
told everybody what to do. Anyhow, that's what 
they told me. I don't know it all. They blazed like 
two volcanoes." 

"Don't I wish I'd been there!" said Barry. 

"Some of your fellows were in the valley and saw 
it," said Dave. "We took 'em prisoners only a few 
days before." 

Excitement, and scout duty in an enemy's country, 
and telling all there is to tell will tire any boy out. 
Therefore Davis Eandolph was sound asleej) the next 


morning long after Barry Eedding went downtown 
with a feeling that he was somehow going into a 
newspaper-extra battle. 

Kid and the Shiner were on hand, and the three 
associates made their first strokes of business at the 
steamer landings. They did well with a great, 
crowded river steamer that came down the Hudson ; 
and they sold liberal bundles of extras to the passen- 
gers of a steamship that was just in from England. 
There were lulls in the rush of trade, however ; and 
whenever there was a chance they were eager to listen 
to Barry's thrilling story of the Southern boy who had 
squirmed his way clean through the Army of the 
Potomac. He was a hero. He had actually seen 
General Lee and Stonewall Jackson, and had heard 
them command their men. He had almost seen a 
battle, and he had heard the roar of cannon. 

"Oh, but wasn't he gritty!" exclaimed the Shiner. 

"The cops won't hurt him," remarked Kid. 

"I'm going to sojer it, soon's I'm old enough," 
suddenly exclaimed the Shiner. "Tell youw'ot! I'll 
raise a comp'ny, and go in as captain." 

"I guess I won't," replied Kid. "I'd ruther sell 
newspapers to the hull army. Oh, but wouldn't that 
be fun! Make piles o' money, too! Then all the 
army'd know 'bout the battles they're fightin'." 

" I'm goin', soon's I can," said Barry. " Dave says 


he and all the Southern fellows drill just like our mil- 
litia, getting ready to pitch in. He can shoot with a 
rifle. He can fence some, too." 

The boy they were talking about was not thinking 
of them, nor of anything that he had already done ; 
for he was trying to find out what he was to do 

Mr. Simpson, the head book-keeper of the banking- 
house of Washington Vernon & Co., was standing 
behind his desk, when a well-dressed young fellow 
walked in, touched his hat with a graceful bow, and 
asked with the utmost politeness : 

"Is Mr. Vernon in, sir?" 

"He is," said Mr. Simpson promptly. "Anything 
I can do for you?" 

"Yes, sir," said the young fellow. "Please tell 
him I have a verbal message of importance from a 
friend of his." 

"Certainly," said the book-keeper; and it was only 
a moment before the banker himself, in the inner 
office, had also been politely bowed to and had smiled 
inquiringly at his prepossessing young visitor. 

Then he was startled by hearing : 

"Is you Mars' Vernon, sah? Yes, sah, I tole you 
I'd come down dis mawnin'. I's from ole Virginny, 
sah, I is. I knows all de Vernons down dah, sah." 

"You don't tell me!" exclaimed the banker, getting 


up at once to go and bolt the door. "Well, if this 
doesn't beat all! Tell me your name." 

"I am Davis Mason Randolph," said the young fel- 
low quietly. "I came up here to visit my mother and 
sister, but I was told that it might be necessary for 
me to get back at once to my relatives in West Vir- 
ginia, just south of the Potomac." 

"I'm glad you kept dark yesterday," said Mr. Ver- 
non; and he did not mean any fun. "Have you seen 
your mother and sister? Tell me everything." 

Dave told him all that seemed to him worth telling, 
and he was showered with compliments by the banker. 

"Came through the lines with a drove of contra- 
bands!" he exclaimed — "blacked boots, stole wagon- 
rides, took a horse from a pasture and rode him all 
night bare-backed ; and went into New York at last 
on a railway, like any other passenger! You'll do! 
The Southern boys are beating the Yankees all hollow 
for 'cuteness. Now, I've something more to say to 

He paused and seemed to ponder and hesitate. 
Perhaps it was because Dave seemed so very young ; 
and that idea may have occurred to Dave himself, for 
he said : 

"If I came one way I can go back another, Mr. 
Vernon. I know exactly what to do. If I were older 
I couldn't do it." 


"Just so!" exclaimed the banker. "Well, you 
had better go home now. See all you can of the city. 
Have a good time to-day and to-morrow. Come here 
to-morrow afternoon, ready to set out at once. Tell 
your mother to take a large sheet of paper and write 
a letter to your Uncle John. Leave it open, so I can 
add a postscript. Bring it when you come. I'll ask 
you once more about money. No, I won't. Give 
your mother every cent you have. Here's a hundred. 
Spend all you want to spend. You deserve it. It's 
pay and rations. We'll see that you have all that's 
needed — and she, too." Mr. Vernon seemed to feel 
altogether enthusiastic, and so did Dave. He took 
the money readily, with thanks, while Mr. Vernon 
remarked to him : 

"You'll do. I'll tell 'em so. But to think of the 
corners you must cut and the risks you must run be- 
fore you can look General Lee in the face, and tell 
him you have brought him a dispatch from his cousin 



ES, captain, it was a black woman shoved 
me down the steps, but it was a white 
8 girl waved the Confederate flag. What I 
want to do is to go and get it. She's a 
reb, right from Virginia!" 
It was the very man upon whom Diana had shut the 
door, after telling him to "Go and be a sojer!" He 
was a lank, mean-looking fellow, but he was talking 
to a bluff sort of man in a rusty blue uniform, who 
was neither lank nor mean in his appearance, and who 
replied : 

"Nonsense! We don't care a cent for out-and-out 
Southern rebs here. All our trouble is with Northern 
Copperheads. But what about that boy? What do 
you know?" 

"I found out all about it," said the informer 
eagerly. "He came through the lines yesterday. 
The upstairs girl told her cousin and he told me — 
right from Lee's army. His mother lives in that 
house. He's a spy — sneaked up here " 



"That'll do. No, you can't have any men to raise 
a muss about any girl and her flag. Go and volun- 
teer, if you feel like doing something for your country. 
Guess there isn't much fight in you, but you might 
stop a bullet." 

There was an unconcealed contempt in the captain's 
manner, and his informant went out of the office with 
his head a little down. Instead of being welcomed as 
an eager patriot he had been severely snubbed as a 
fellow of no account. 

Hardly had he gone, however, before the captain 
said to himself: 

"Anyhow, it's my duty to see about that boy. I'll 
send for him. There's mischief brewing of some kind, 
I can feel it in the air. We don't watch all the cor- 
ners as they do down South." 

He seemed to be gloom}^ and irritated, and he at 
once sat down and wrote what seemed to be a mili- 
tary order. Then he rang a little gong on his desk, 
and a private soldier came into the office and carried 
the order away. 

" They can catch him best at about dinner-time," 
said the captain. 

Over on Broadway, at no great distance from that 
very office, a slim boy, in clothes too small for him, 
was walking along with a solitary newspaper in his 
hand, saying to himself ; 


" 'Cording to what Dave and Lilian say the war 
isn't of any use. All the men have been killed for 
nothing. I s'pose father and all the rest would have 
to be killed before General Lee could march his army 
here. Don't I wish I was old enough!" 

He did not know how savagely in earnest he had 
been talking. He had been looking down and walk- 
ing right along; and he almost ran against a gray- 
headed, middle-sized man, who suddenly said : 


"Yes, sir," said Barry, holding out his paper. 
^^ Times, sir. Last paper I've got." 

"I'll take it," said the man. "I heard what you 
said, my boy. President Lincoln wants three hun- 
dred thousand grown-up men that feel just as you 

" Hope he'll get 'em," said Barry. "My father's in 
the Army of the Potomac," Just there he felt as if 
he were waking up, for the man wore a uniform and 
had star shoulder-straps. 

"Mister!" exclaimed Barry, "ain't you a general?" 

"Yes, my boy," said the man, smiling very kindly. 
"I'm a general. I command the forts around the 
harbor. My name is Brown." 

"I want to ask a question," said Barry earnestly. 
Could General Lee take New York?" 

"No," said the general, "he could never take New 


York — not even if he could get here; and he can't do 

"I know a boy that says he's commg," said Barry. 
"He's a Southern boy." 

" Of course," said the general. "They all think so, 
but he couldn't take the city without taking the forts 
and all the gunboats in the harbor. I hope the war 
will be over before we want you." 

"But, general," persisted Barry, "I know another 
man: he says all the drafted men won't be taken. 
They're all going to rebel. They can take the forts, 

"No, they can't," said the general sharply; but a 
swift change was coming over his face, and he rapidly 
asked Barry several questions — not about Dave at all, 
but about Palovski. 

" I don't want him," he said ; "I only want to know 
what he told you." 

Another officer had joined the general, and was lis- 
tening, and it was he who at last said : 

"Just as I told you. General Brown. There's 
trouble ahead." 

"Exactly, major," replied the general. "I know 
there is — if Lee wins a victory ; not if he is defeated. 
We shall be ready. Go right along, my boy. If you 
want to see war, you may have a chance to see it right 
here on Broadway." 


Just as Barry set off at a fast walk, his head all 
a-fever over his talk with a real war-general, actually 
in command of the city of New York, of the soldiers, 
and of the forts, his quick ears caught the word 
"Spy!" from the lips of the major. It was as if a 
pin had pricked him hard, and he sprang away at 
once upon a run, exclaiming: 

" I didn't tell them Dave's name, nor where he lives. 
If they don't catch me they can't find him. Oh, what 
a fool I was!" 

He ran well out of Broadway into and up another 
street, square after square; and one man shouted, 
"Stop thief!" but nobody stopped him or seemed to 
be following him. He was a little out of breath then, 
and while he walked to catch it again he found him- 
self thinking furiously. 

"I'm glad I told about Palovski. They ought to 
know that. I ought to help them get more soldiers. 
That wasn't wrong. Dave isn't any spy. No, they 
didn't ask much about him. I didn't tell anything, 
either. There, now! was it wrong to tell Kid and 
the Shiner? No, 'twasn't. They're not in the army. 
Would they tell anybody else? Could it hurt him?" 

He was growing intensely anxious, and he was get- 
ting one entirely new idea to him. He had always 
thought of the war as being carried on along the 
Potomac and away down South. He had not at all 


understood that the city he lived in was like a fort, 
and had a garrison, and was in the war as much 
as was any Southern city. 

"Ships of war in the harbor?" he said. "Why, I 
thought they only came here to get mended and to 
get coal and provisions. General Brown says they 
are here to help the forts to keep out General Lee's 
army. They can do it, too; and everybody'd help 
'em fight." 

Still, he did not run any more. He had thoughts 
which made him walk pretty slowly all the way home. 
His last remark to himself seemed to give him a vast 
amount of relief. 

"No, sir-ree!" he said. " General Brown forgot to 
ask my name. He doesn't know me, and he doesn't 
know where I live." 

He had not asked because he did not care to know, 
but after Barry left him he had said to the major : 

"See the police commissioners before the day for 
the draft — that is, unless Lee is beaten. They may 
need our help. There is mischief brewing." 

Just before Barry reached his own house three per- 
sons were talking in low voices in one of its upper 
rooms. One of them had been downtown, and had 
returned with news which had set the other two 

"Dave!" exclaimed Mrs. Eandolph, "this is too 


bad! We've only just seen you. I can't let you go. 
You can't get through to General Lee. It's sure 

"0 Dave!" sobbed Lilian, "I can't bear it! You 
have run risks enough. They ought to send somebody 
else this time." 

"Nobody else can go, Lil," said Davis. "They 
can't trust everybody. It's something that General 
Lee must know if he is to capture New York. I'm 
glad of the chance. I'm going to do it for our flag — 
do it or die !" 

Barry had entered the house, and he had talked 
very fast for a minute with his mother. "Barry!" 
she had said, "we must go and see them at once." 

That was the reason why the door of Mrs. Ran- 
dolph's room was now suddenly opened. 

"What is it?" exclaimed Mrs. Randolph. 

" Hush !" replied Mrs. Redding hastily. " I'm afraid 
Dave is in danger." 

"Dave!" interrupted Barry, "I don't believe I did 
any harm. They don't know where you live. I'll tell 
you how it was." 

"Barry!" exclaimed Lilian, as she stepjDed in front 
of him, "have you told about Dave?" 

"No, I haven't; I've come to warn him." 

"Are they after him already?" asked Mrs. Ran- 
dolph. "0 my son!" 


"I'd never have thought that of you, Barry," said 

She looked very pretty indeed, but it was hard to 
say whether her face contained more of grief or indig- 
nation. Barry looked straight at her, while his mother 
was saying: 

" Tell them everything, Barry ; " and then he began 

" There isn't anything to tell," and went on with all 
his talk with General Brown and the major. 

Davis listened carefully, but at the end of it he 
said, in a firm, low voice : 

"Mother, Barry is all right. I'd give a good deal 
to be arrested. They'd let me go." 

He looked so brave and manly and thoughtful that 
his mother kissed him for very admiration, but Mrs. 
Bedding said: 

"Come, Barry! we've all got to be very careful. 
It's an awful state of things when you daren't say 
what you want to." 

She and Barry went out, but they had hardly done 
so before Dave remarked : 

"Mother, all that about the forts, and the gunboats, 
and the draft, and the police is just what General Lee 
wants to know. It's straight from the Federal com- 
mander of the city of New York. If they would only 
arrest me I might learn something more before I go." 


"It's just like you, Dave!" said Lilian. "Did I 
say anything to Barry? He felt pretty bad." 

There was no doubt of that, but he was to feel a 
great deal worse. Of course nothing was said at the 
dinner-table, for there were boarders there — men and 
women. They had all come upstairs, and Lilian was 
looking out of a parlor window, when she suddenly 
turned very pale and exclaimed : 

" Davis — Barry — mother — there they are ! The sol- 
diers have come I" 

" I'll go right with them," said Davis. " I'll go and 
get my hat. Mother, don't you come — nor Lilian!" 

"Yes, we will," said his mother. 

There was a small tempest of whispered, excited 
remarks, as a corporal came up the steps, leaving two 
soldiers on the sidewalk. He rang the bell, and it 
was answered by Mrs. Redding. 

"A young man named Randolph " he began. 

"Yes, sir, he is here," she said. "He boards here. 
What about him?" 

"He is wanted at headquarters." 

"Here I am," said Davis, stepping out. "I'm 
Randolph. Come on, Barry! let's go and see what 
they want of me." 

"All right!" remarked the corporal; and then he 
added, "Humbug, boy! Some fellow's been fooling 
the adjutant. Come along, boys! " 


"I'm going, too," said Lilian, "whether they want 
me or not. Let's go, mother!" 

"We'll all go," said Mrs. Eedding; but she and the 
others had to spend a minute or more in getting ready, 
and meantime the boys, who were ready, had walked 
off with the men in blue. They only walked as far 
as a street-car ; and it seemed to Barry only one long, 
breathless minute before he and Davis were in a large 
room before several severe, stern-looking men who 
wore shoulder-straps. 

Their first question came to him, 

" Who are you?" asked an officer. 

"Barry Eedding. Dave boards at our house " 

"Oh, well! you've nothing to do with this." Dave 
nodded at Barry, but he was at once busy with his 
own questions and answers. 

A man at a table was busy with a pen, as they 
asked his name and age and a number of other things ; 
and Barry heard a tall officer say twice, " All non- 
sense!" just before the questioner said sharply: 

"You came North to see your mother? How did 
you get through our lines?" 

"I walked through," said Dave — "crowd of refu- 
gees and colored people." 

" V/hat account did you give to any of our army 

"Didn't have to give any," said Dave. "Nobody 


asked me. Then I went to Washington and came 

There was a rustle at the door at that moment, and 
he added, " There are my mother and sister now. I 
hadn't seen them for a year," 

"He is my son," began Mrs. Eandolph; and Lil- 
ian's face was very white and fierce, while Barry and 
his mother were evidently trying hard not to speak. 

"Wait, madam," said the questioner, not unkindly. 
"Wait a moment, colonel. Eandolph, do you know 
where General Lee's army is now?" 

" Yes, sir ; he is in the Shenandoah Valley, on his 
way to New York." 

He had made a sensation now, and even the colonel 
himself asked question after question, until at last he 

"You are not a soldier, but do you not know that 
you are hurting your own side by telling so much?" 

"I think not," reiDlied Davis. "General Lee is 
marching right along. I've only told where our 
forces were then. They are not in the same places 
now. He isn't the kind to sit still. Our people say 
there's enough of that done on your side." 

There were red and even angry faces among the 
officers, and Lilian looked triumphant ; but the colonel 
was calm. 

"Are you not a kind of spy?" he asked. 


"Well, yes," said Davis, "if there was anything 
here worth knowing; but General Lee isn't near 
enough yet for me to tell him. New York is full of 
people that would like to tell him more than I know." 

"Fact!" exclaimed the colonel. "My boy, do you 
intend returning South?" 

"Some day or other," said Davis; "when my visit 
is over." 

"Could you get back through our lines?" 

"I wouldn't have to," said Davis. "I'd only go 
and board in some place that General Lee was going 
to take." 

"I never saw such impudence since I was born!" 
roared one of the officers. "Let him go, colonel! 
How can we keep out their spies, when a mere saucy 
boy can walk right through our careless, worthless 

"Madam," said the colonel, bowing to Mrs. Ean- 
dolph, "your son is at liberty. He is a plucky young 
fellow, but he is too rash to be a good spy. He must 
be more careful of his tongue. Good-afternoon, 

"Thank you, major!" said Mrs. Randolph, and they 
hurried out. 

"Did you learn anything?" whispered Lilian. 

"Not much, Lil; but the colonel said to the one- 
armed captain that there were not men enough in the 


forts to mount guard or man half the guns. If Gen- 
eral Lee only knew !" 

"Davis," said his mother, "I shall not hinder your 
going. You must do your duty. Go and serve your 

"Of course he must, mother," said Lilian; "I don't 
believe any one else can do what he can." 

She was proud of her brother ; but at that very 
moment Mrs. Eedding was saying seriously to 
Barry : 

" Yes, he is a brave boy ; but I wish for all the world 
he was in Virginia ! So bright a fellow as he is might 
do mischief." 

In the office they had left in the Army Headquarters 
Building the colonel was replying to the major: 

"Spy? Why, so he is! That is, he would be if he 
could. I've hardly any doubt that he came as a spy, 
but we couldn't prove it. If we could, what's the 
use? Lincoln wouldn't let him be shot. He can't do 
any more harm. Let him go!" 

Some hundreds of miles south of where they were 
talking there was a very different scene. A rail-fenced 
road came over the brow of a high-ridged hill that 
seemed to belong to a long range of blue, smoky-topped 
mountains reaching southerly into the distance. In 
the middle of the road a group of dusty-uniformed 
horsemen had halted, and for a moment they all 


seemed to be looking northward in silence. Then one 
of them said : 

"There is the Potomac, General Lee. I wish I 
knew whether victory or defeat for us lay waiting- 
bey ond it." 

"There is but one victory possible. We are too 
few for any other, " answered the noble-looking man 
he spoke to. 

"Where is it to be won, general?" 

"In the streets of New York," replied the Confed- 
erate commander, "The war power of the Lincoln 
government is upheld by the money power. The heart 
of that is not in Washington. If we can stop the 
beating of it in New York City for thirty days, we 
shall win everywhere — for the Union armies will break 
down of their own size and weight. Grant will let 
go at Vicksburg. Their fleets cannot keep the seas. 
France and England will join hands with us. We 
need only one victory in the field. After that New 
York is ours, the war is over, and the Confederate 
triumph is secure. But there is an army beyond that 
river, gentlemen ; and the hardest battle of the war 
is right before us." 



'ILIAN went home from the army head- 
quarters in a triumphant state of mind. 
j^^"^^ She had heard her brother tell the Federal 
^^^,^1 officers that General Lee was coming, and 
W^ she almost felt as if her army, or General Lee's, 
were a number of miles nearer. She was twice 
as ready for the proposed drive around the city, and 
she and her mother waited half-impatiently while 
Davis went after a carriage. If she could have adorned 
that somewhat stylish turnout when it came with her 
own flag, she would have been altogether satisfied. 

Davis remarked that it was a part of his scout duty 
to see all there was to be seen, but Mrs. Randolph 
doubted his seeing anything of value to the Confeder- 
ate leaders. They had not been in motion long, how- 
ever, before he declared that he had seen at least one 

"What's that?" said Mrs. Randolph. 

"Why," said Davis, "so many men — crowds of 



them — enough to make armies ! You don't see any- 
thing like it in the South." 

"I'm afraid that's so," said she thoughtfully; and 
after that there was a silent time, until Davis sud- 
denly asked : 

" Was there ever any real fighting done right here, 
where the city is?" 

"Why, Davis!" said his mother ; "don't you know? 
There was no fighting when the English captured it 
from the Dutch, but in the Revolutionary War " 

"No battles here?" said Lilian, when her mother 
paused, as if trying to remember something. 

"Well," said Mrs. Randolph, "the British beat 
Washington's army in the battle of Long Island. 
That was fought in Brooklyn. Right over yonder, 
on the shore of Kip's Bay, there v/as another fight. 
That was where General Washington lost his hat. 
Over there, beyond Central Park, there was another ; 
and President Monroe was in it, and he was only two 
years older than you are. Away up at Fort Wash- 
ington was the hardest fight of all, and we were beaten 

"Too bad!" said Dave. "Well, there'll be some 
Virginia troops here again pretty soon." 

"I wish they were here now!" exclaimed Lilian. 
"But oh, what a city it is! Dave, this is the first 
time I've seen so much of it." 


"It looks like a big thing to take," said Davis; "but 
our boys can do it." 

"Boys?" said his mother. "What our army needs 
is men." 

"Well," replied Davis, "Uncle John says all the 
boys in the South over thirteen are of full age. It's 
the war made 'em so." 

If he was a fair sample, Uncle John was right ; for 
there was something very sober and manly about him, 
even while he was out sight-seeing. 

As for Barry, he was away downtown selling 
newspapers; but it seemed to him as if he had never 
before done so much thinking. Besides that, as he 
told himself, he always heard everything. He had 
just finished a brisk run of evening-paper business, 
and was standing at the United States Sub-Treasury 
corner, waiting for more customers, when he heard 
somebody talking behind him. 

"No, Hunker: Lee needn't care a cent for the forts 
around the harbor. He is under no necessity for tak- 
ing them. All he wants is the city itself. That will 
cut off the Lincoln government from its cash-box." 

"But the ships of war, Mr. Mapleson," replied 
Hunker— "the gunboats? They can steam along the 
water-front and shell out any troops holding the city. 
General Lee can't hold New York against them." 

"Nonsense, Hunker!" replied Mapleson, with a 


glitter in his cold blue eyes. " If I had trooiDS camped 
in the public squares and up and down Broadway, 
and quartered in the hotels and houses and churches, 
they would have all the city for breastworks. They 
could not be shelled out without destroying the town. 
I could hold it until the Lincoln government at Wash- 
ington gave up the fight." 

"That's a fact!" exclaimed Hunker. "I never 
thought of that." 

Barry heard it all, and he thought about it so deeply 
that he sold a man a World for a Tribune, and called 
him General Brown when he corrected the mistake. 

There was another man talking at that moment, 
whom Barry could not hear, although it would have 
done him good. Hundreds of miles southward and 
hundreds of miles westward of the Sub-Treasury cor- 
ner a short, thick-set man, in a dingy blue suit with 
two dull-looking gold stars on each shoulder, stood 
near the stump of a large tree. The roots of the 
stump had been cut off, so that it could be tilted 
toward one side. A deep hole had been gouged in 
the face of the stump. Heavy iron bands had been 
driven down and riveted around the massive wood. 
Men with telescopes and other instruments were look- 
ing, measuring, and directing, while some soldiers 
with crowbars carefully tilted the stump to a precise 


In all directions, as far as the eye could see, there 
were lines of earthworks. Some of them were 
mounted with cannon, and all were teeming with 
men in uniform. Here and there, over all these busy 
fortifications, floated the banner of the Union, the 
Stars and Stripes. 

At some distance westerly, beyond a wide, bare 
space, ran a long, low hill ; and it was covered with 
forts and lines of works. Beyond it ran a broad, 
muddy river. Over the works that defended the hill 
floated the banner of the Southern Confederacy, the 
Stars and Bars. 

All the air was gloomy with drifting powder-smoke, 
and there was hardly any cessation in the roar of 
heavy guns — nearer or farther — and the very sun 
seemed to look down hotly and angrily. 


A puff of smoke, a sheet of red flame, sprang from 
the hollow in the stump. Then followed a thunderous 
report, and something almost visible was hurled high 
into the air, in a vast whirling curve. Up, up, up it 
went, and away, away, until it ceased rising and 
came down with a hissing plunge into the middle of 
the Confederate works. 

"That will do," said the starred man, as he watched 
the throwing of the bombshell and saw that it burst 
on falling. 


" Well, General Grant !" said a deep voice close by 
him, " who ever heard before of a mortar made of a 
hickory stump? I'm afraid it won't last long." 

"It won't have to last long, Logan," said Grant. 
"It'll hold together till Vicksburg surrenders." 

Barry did not hear that, or he would have received 
another answer to his great question, "What is war, 
anyhow?" He would have seen that war will some- 
times discover what a man like Grant or an old hick- 
ory stump is good for. 

Just now he was pretty well waked up by the 
remarks made to him by the man to whom he had 
sold the wrong paper. He was trying to excuse him- 
self, when another man came up, saying : 

" World ? That's what I want. Don't you try to 
put off any Tribune on me." 

Barry reached home tired out, but the first thing 
he told his mother was : 

"I can buy a new suit o' clothes in a week, at the 
rate I'm getting ahead." 

"Take two weeks," she said, "and get a real good 
one. I want you to look as nice as Davis Eandolph 

"Well," said Barry, "you mean on Sundays. I 
guess it wouldn't do for a newsboy to rig up much. 
How Kid would hoot if I did — the Shiner, too!" 

Davis was indeed looking pretty well dressed, but 


Barry was keen enough to see that that was by no 
means all. He had such easy good manners, and he 
was so cool and self-possessed. There was hardly 
anything "green" about him, although it was his first 
visit to the great city. Barry had lived there all his 
life, and yet he had a strong feeling that Dave was 
teaching him something new. 

"You see," said Barry to Lilian, "he has been 
a kind of soldier already. I'm going to be one, sure's 
you live!" 

"Dave'U be a general, or at least a colonel," said 
Lilian proudly. "He is fit for anything. Mother 
says it's because he thinks. I wish I knew how to 

"That's it," said Barry; "I've been thinking a good 
deal to-day. All our militia regiments have gone to 
fight Lee's army; but there's lots of discharged volun- 
teers, tip-top soldiers, hundreds and hundreds of them, 
all around the city," 

"That's what Davis said," replied Lilian. "He 
called them the rear-guard of your army, and he said 
the worst of it was that they were all veterans. He 
said General Lee probably knew all about them, 

"Well, he'd better not tell him," said Barry. 
"That would be being a kind of spy." 

"What?" exclaimed Lilian with a frightened look. 


"You couldn't stop him! You wouldn't! Barry! 
you wouldn't go and have Dave arrested agam?" 

"If I was playing spy against the Confederacy," 
said Barry, "wouldn't it be your duty and Dave's 
to stop me?" 

" Of course it would, " said Lilian. " Oh, well, Barry 
— of course; but we wouldn't let them hurt you." 

" I wish Dave was safe down South again, anyhow," 
said Barry. 

After supper there was a great deal of talk about 
the war, and Barry was surprised at himself to find 
how much he knew. He talked about the forts and 
the gunboats and the police, and the disbanded volun- 
teers, and how the city could be occupied, and how 
not, until even his mother looked at him and said to 
herself : 

"How he is growing!" 

Dave talked about the Southern army as freely as 
Barry did about the city ; but he was in one of his 
thoughtful fits, and once or twice he actually whistled. 

"How old Davis is!" exclaimed Lilian, after she 
and her mother went to their room. 

"It's the war," said Mrs. Randolph. "It's a hot- 
house. It's a furnace. Oh, how I wish it were 
ended !" 

The entire question of war and peace had to be put 
aside until the next morning. Even then it could not 


be discussed ; for the Randolphs were to go out riding 
again, and Barry was out early at his newspaper busi- 
ness. He actually read one of his papers — the news- 
telegraph column — the first chance he had. 

"They don't know where General Lee's army is," 
he said. "Well, if the whole Army of the Potomac 
can't find him, I guess Dave couldn't. Is he really, 
now, any kind of spy — dangerous to our side?" 

However that might be, Davis and Lilian and their 
mother had a double errand that morning. When 
they came back from their drive Dave was all dressed 
in army blue. He looked almost like a boy-soldier of 
the Union army. He looked well in it, too ; but Lil- 
ian remarked : 

" Oh, how I wish it were butternut, with our gold 
braid on the sleeves!" 

Barry was not to come home at noon, and his mother 
saw no cause of remark in Davis Randolj)h's new suit. 
Mrs. Randolph, however, after her drive, spent a long 
time over a letter to Uncle John in Virginia, or in the 
army, just as if she expected him to get it. Toward 
the middle of the afternoon Davis picked up his hat 
and turned his head a little away from his mother, as 
he said quietly : 

"Nobody must know but what I'm coming right 
back agrin — not even Barry nor Dinah Lee — until I'm 
too far away for anybody to stop me." 


"Do your duty, my son," said Mrs. Eandolph, try- 
ing to look brave and firm. 

"O Dave!" whispered Lilian, as she hung around 
his neck, "be careful! Don't let them catch you! 
Don't run any risks!" 

All he seemed able to say was, "Good-by!" but 
when he reached Wall Street, and walked into the 
elegant office of Vernon & Co, , he bowed to Mr. Simp- 
son in the most polite and smiling manner. 

He went on into the back room at once, and he was 
shut up there for some time with Mr. Vernon. That 
gentleman was not talking, however. He was writ- 
ing something in the letter from Mrs. Eandolph to 
Uncle John. He wrote slowly, carefully, between the 
lines she had made ; and the curious part of it was 
that his pen seemed not to leave any ink-marks 
behind it. 

" There !" he said, when it was finished ; " hand that 
to General Lee and say 'flat-iron.' He will know 
what to do with it." 

"If he doesn't, I can tell him," said Davis. "But 
if it's found on me I'll be shot." 

"I think so," said Mr. Vernon. "I'm told that 
they do not refer such cases to President Lincoln any 
more. He is too kind-hearted. Bless him for that! 
It's all over before he hears of it. There isn't really 
much to be said against Lincoln by our folks." 


"He's a tyrant!" exclaimed Dave. "If it wasn't 
for him the North would give up." 

"Of course it would," replied the banker, "but that 
shows what a man he is. You are old enough to see 
that if one man holds up a whole nation he's a pretty 
strong man." 

" We shall beat him !" said Davis. 

"I believe so," said the banker gravely. "I am 
doing all I can, at as much risk as if I were all the 
while in battle and under fire." 

"That's so!" said Dave; and in another minute he 
had received his last instructions, more greenbacks, 
a hearty hand-shake, and then he was out in the 

"Now for General Lee's headquarters!" he said to 
himself, in a suppressed whisper. 

"Hurrah for the Sunny South! How I would like 
to march into New York with him ! Wouldn't Lilian 
swing her flag?" 

All over the great city the Union flags were float- 
ing. They were carried proudly by the tall masts of 
ships in the harbor; they fluttered in the sea-breeze 
that swept over the frowning stonework of the guard- 
ian forts. One pair of busy eyes had been almost 
counting them that day, and now that Barry had sold 
the last of a heavy batch of papers, he stood with his 
hands in his pockets looking seaward. His wander- 


ing trade had carried him to the Battery, at the har- 
bor end of the city ; and from that spot he could get 
a better view of things, both afloat and ashore. 

"Flags, flags, flags everywhere!" he said. "What's 
the use of a flag? What made them strijDe it and put 
on so many stars? What's war, anyhow?" 

"Don't you know what we soldiers call that flag, 
my boy?" asked a weak but cheerful voice near him. 
He turned around, and there stood a tall man, who 
must once have been very broad-shouldered and strong, 
but who was now thin, white-faced, emaciated, so 
that his flowing black beard and brilliant black eyes 
gave him a look that startled Barry. He wore the 
uniform and straps of a captain. 

"Guess you ought to be in hospital," exclaimed 

"I've just come out of one," said the captain. "I 
wanted to take a last look at the bay and the flag." 

"Going back again, then?" asked Barry. "Been 
wounded in battle? Getting well pretty fast?" 

He felt that something about that man was making 
him feel excited. It was almost as if the war itself 
were talking to him. 

" Yes, " said the captain. " I was wounded in battle. 
Shot through the lungs. No, I'm not to get well. 
The surgeon says I am to die to-morrow pretty cer- 
tainly, but I can walk. The bay is beautiful, but it 

The ivounded captain fells Barry of the flag. 


isn't so beautiful as the flag is. Don't you know 
what the flag means?" 

"No," said Barry bluntly, "nor the war, either. 
My father's in the army, though; and I'd go if I 
were old enough." 

"Of course," said the captain. "That flag is worth 
dying for. I'll tell you. The thirteen stripes stand 
for the thirteen States at the beginning, and for all 
the States in union. The stars are one for each 
State, and they must never set nor go out. The blue 
they are on in the flag means the heaven that is over 
them, and we boys in the army call this God's coun- 
try. The white means justice and pure government. 
The red stands for honor and for the blood the Union 
has cost, and for the blood that was shed for us all. 
We call that flag Old Glory, my boy." 

Barry stared at him, as his black, shining eyes wan- 
dered from point to point where the starry flags were 
flying. He tried to understand, and it seemed as if 
a new idea was slowly coming to him ; but he sud- 
denly asked : 

"Can General Lee take New York?" 

"He may get here. His army may," said the cap- 
tain. "Just as an iceberg gets to the Southern Sea, 
only to melt away there. I shall die, but Old Glory 
will float over the city I was born in to the end of 
time !" 


"Oh, do go home !" exclaimed Barry. "Go to the 
hospital, and do get well !" 

"I'm going," said the captain; "but, my boy, it's 
worth any man's while to give his life for that flag." 

He, too, must have been excited, for he strode away 
erect and firmly; and Barry looked after him, ex- 
claiming : 

"I hope he'll get well. He's a siDlendid fellow! 
I'm glad I know what the flag means. Yes, sir! I 
want to be a volunteer and do something." 

There did not ceem to be anything whatever for him 
to do just then in the service of his country and his 
flag. All he could do was to sell newspapers and help 
his mother. He had never before felt so proud of 
having a soldier father, however, as at the moment 
when he turned away from the Battery, remarking to 
himself : 

"Well, Dave can't do anything, either." 

Dave did not seem to be trying to do anything, but 
it might have surprised Barry to have seen where he 
was, and how entirely easy he was taking things. He 
appeared to be taking a nap, curled up in a corner of 
a seat in a railway car on its way from New York to 
Philadelphia. He was not alone, for the next seat 
forward was turned over, so that three elderly gentle- 
men, whose uniforms were covered by linen dusters, 
could sit facing each other and discuss the military 


situation. They did not disturb Davis, but they talked 
very freely about army corps, and their numbers and 
their commanders, and where they then were, and 
where they were to go next. They seemed not to 
know so much about the movements of General Lee. 
What did they care for a sleepy boy not more than 
fifteen years old? No Confederate spy could possibly 
report anything that they were saying. Only an army 
man could really understand their conversation, any- 

Nevertheless, when the train rolled into the depot 
at Philadelphia that boy picked up a small satchel and 
got out, and he said to himself : 

"No, I mustn't write it down. I can remember 
every word of it. One of them was Lincoln's Assistant 
Secretary of War ; one of them is to command an 
army corps, and the other is to command at Harris- 
burg. I've a tremendous report to make to General 



f^ T seemed as if the days of June, in the year 

1863, grew hotter and hotter, one after 

the other. It was not, perhaps, so much 

the weather outside of j)eople as it was the 

excitement inside of them. More than one 

hot day went by before Barry seemed to forget 

himself and suddenly exclaimed to Mrs. Eandolph and 

Lilian : 

"I just wonder what has become of Dave!" 
"Barry!" said Lilian, warningly. 
" Oh, no!" he said. " I didn't mean to ask. I don't 
want you to tell me where he went. I only hope he's 
safe — that's all." 

They did not say anything, but they both looked at 
him gratefully. They could not have told him if they 
had wished to do so ever so much. Neither could 
Davis himself, for the very question that was perplex- 
ing him was : 

"Where on earth am I?" 

To be sure, he seemed to be in as cool and shady a 



place as any boy could have found to spend the last 
sultry hours of such a day as that. He sat upon a 
large stone, with his feet upon two other stones, to 
keep them out of a small stream of water that 
gurgled past him. Over his head, not very far, was 
a long arch of rude but massive masonry; and he 
must at least have known that he was under a bridge. 

"I've had to scoot around so," he said, "ever since 
I left the railroad. I didn't dare to ask anybody in 
the village, but I'm glad I sav/ the head of that cav- 
alry column in time. Hullo! there they come!" 

There was a clatter of hoofs on a hard road and 
then right over his head, and he heard a shout : 

"Orderly! they'll have to water the horses above 
or below. The banks are too steep right here — 
reg'lar cut!" 

"Glad of that!" muttered Davis. "If they could 
get down to the creek they'd be pretty sure to find 
me. There! that's artillery. What a rumble!" 

There was no danger that the bridge would break 
down, even under the weight of cannon ; but if Davis 
was a spy he was learning something. 

"Don't I wish I dared go out," he said, "and get a 
better look at them! I can't stay here long, anyhow. 
Why, I'm right in among the Federal troops, and 
how I'm to get out I don't know. What would 
mother and Lilian say to this?" 


It was just as well that they did not know anything 
at all about his cool, shadowy hiding-place, nor about 
the seemingly endless march, march, march of dusty 
riflemen over his head. If they had been watching 
him, however, they might have admired his patience. 
He sat very still and did not even talk to himself, ex- 
cept once, when he remarked that there were fish in 
the water, and wished that he had some broiled trout, 
or almost anything else for supper, 

"I shan't be thirsty, anyhow," he added; "and it's 
getting dark. I can take a look outside pretty soon." 

His mother and sister were at that hour busy over 
some newspapers that Barry had brought home ; and 
so, in another room, was he. He had sj)read one out 
uix)n a table, and was studying it diligently. 

"Biggest kind of war-map!" he remarked. "It's 
the very country Dave's got to pick his way through 
— all about the Potomac and the mountains, away up 
to Pennsylvania. Wonder if he'll have to foot it all 
the way? He'll run against some of our men if he 
does. What will they do to him if they catch him?" 

That was a question which Lilian and her mother 
had asked of themselves often enough, but which they 
had tried not to ask of each other. It was in Dave's 
own mind, too, when at last he crept out from under 
the bridge. 

The steep banks on either side of the creek were 


bushy at their edges. There were signs that at some 
seasons of the year it might be a pretty deep and rapid 
stream, however much it might shrink in midsummer. 
"What!" he whispered, as he clambered up and 
peered through a bush ; "guard on the bridge? I'll 
have to go down again and wade across. Glad I can 



Down he crept and under the bridge, and in a few 
moments more he was wading cautiously close to the 
stonework, feeling his way with his bare feet ; while 
the sentinel on the bridge above strolled up and down, 
or paused to exchange the countersign with officers 
and men who came and went. 

"Glad I know that," said Dave to himself, "I can 
say 'New Orleans' and 'Eichmond, ' if I'm halted 

In a minute more he was glad again, for the sentinel 
came to the parapet of the bridge and peered over. 
"Good thing for me," thought Dave, "that the moon- 
light shines on the other side of the bridge and it's 
awful dark down here." 

But for that he might, indeed, have been seen ; and 
even as it was, the evening seemed to grow a little chilly 
until the sentinel moved away again. Then there 
was more wading — very slow, very cautious ; but the 
worst trial of all came when the bank was reached, 
for it was all one glimmer of moonlight. 


"He'll see me, sure's you live!" whispered poor 
Dave ; but there came a sharp clatter of hoofs on the 
road, and it halted on the bridge. 

"Now's my time!" he said, as he darted forward. 
" While they're talking. Up I go! Last chance!" 

Up he went, and crawled in among the bushes, 
while one horseman on the bridge shouted to another : 

" We'll get him ! He was seen in the village. It's 
a bad time for spies !" 

"That means me, I suppose," said Davis. "What 
made them think I was a spy? Reckon it was because 
I got away so fast when they were coming, I'll go 
right up that hill. Cavalry couldn't climb it, but I 
can — soon as I get my shoes on." 

They were on quickly enough ; and then he speedily 
discovered what slow, hard work it is to pick one's 
way through woods and underbrush and among scat- 
tered rocks, with only now and then a little moonshine 
to go by. 

"There!" he exclaimed at last ; "this is the tough- 
est, rockiest place I've found. I'll lie down under 
these sumach bushes and sleep. Oh, how tired I am !" 

So he slept, surrounded by the tired thousands of a 
sleeping army ; while whoever was hunting for him 
had to give it up for that night. 

It was the other way with some of the people in 
Mrs. Redding's house. There was no wonder that 


neither Lilian nor her mother could shut their eyes 
for long hours after the dull, hot day departed. Per- 
haps Mrs. Eeddhig also had good reasons for anxiety, 
in spite of her victory over Mr. Hunker; but for once 
Barry himself found that he was not sleepy. Even if 
he shut his eyes he seemed to see that spidery war- 
map, and to hunt all over it for armies and battle- 

"Father's there somewhere," came to him again 
and again. " Dave is there. There's a great battle 
coming. Don't I wish I were a man!" 

He did sleep at last, but he awoke very early ; and 
his first remark was : 

"I know how folks feel when they want to see a 
newspaper. They can't rest till they know what's 
been done since they went to bed." 

Earlier still there had been a stir under some sumach 
bushes on a rugged hillside in upper Maryland. 

Slowly, cautiously a head with a straw hat on it 
came out through the thick branches, and then a boy 

"Toughest day's scouting ever I had!" exclaimed 
Dave. " I don't see how on earth I'm to get through. 
I'll pick my way up along that creek, and keep in the 

An hour later he seemed to feel better, for he lay 
in the hay-loft of a barn and remarked of it : 


"Safest kind of place! Only hay enough left to 
cover me. I'll lie right here till that column gets 
away past. Then I'll try again." 

He was peering through a knot-hole at that moment. 
It was a very small hole, but even if it had been 
smaller he could just as well have seen what a splendid 
body of infantry, all in blue, was swinging along the 

"They're going to meet Lee," he said; "and that 
means that they know he is coming." 

All that day Barry sold newspapers as industriously 
as ever. He seemed to have caught the knack of it, 
and either he had learned how to shout or his voice 
was really improving. Kid and the Shiner noticed it, 
and they told him so, very encouragingly. He did 
not seem to care so much about that, but he almost 
astonished them by the energy with which he declared 
how sick he was of being a newsboy instead of a vol- 
unteer, and how tremendously he wished that he were 
in the army. 

"I almost feel as if I were getting ready to go," he 
said to Kid. "I wish I could be drafted." 

"Well," said Kid, "nobody's going to stand the 
draft. It can't be done." 

"I've heard 'em say they'd fight first," remarked 
the Shiner. 

"We could sell loads o' papers next morning, if 


they did," replied Kid. " It'd be better than a vict'ry 
on the P'tomick." 

"I shan't sell any to-morrow," said Barry. "It'll 
be Sunday, and I'm going to go to church." 

"Guess you won't go in that rig," was Kid's com- 
ment ; and he was right, for when Barry went home 
he carried a bundle with him, about which he seemed 
to feel very serious. 

"They fit me loose," he said, "but I'll try 'em on 
again soon's mother's seen 'em. 'Twon't be long 
before I can pay her back for them," 

He went to her room at once on reaching home. 

"Barry!" she exclaimed, as he came in, "a letter 
from your father! There's a great battle coming. 
Barry, Barry There she stopped. 

"Don't worry, mother!" said Barry. "I don't be- 
lieve he'll get hit. He has been in more than twenty 
battles already. Don't I wish I were with him! 
Shouldn't wonder if Dave'll be there, on his side. He 
can shoot. We ought not to have let him get away." 

"We did right," she said. "I'll tell his mother the 
news. It isn't likely he'll be in the battle, though — 
a mere boy like him !" 

It was only a few minutes before Mrs. Eedding and 
Mrs. Eandolph were talking the matter over, very 
much as if they were on the same side. There was, 
however, a sharp skirmish between Barry and Lilian 


over the battle prospect, until something he said about 
Dave brought on a truce, which they both promised to 
keep until church-time next morning. Little they 
imagined how many things had been seen during all 
the earlier part of the day through a knot-hole in the 
side of an old Maryland barn. Davis himself wearied 
of watching the endless tide of riflemen go by. Be- 
sides, he could not help considering how much those 
sturdy-looking veterans might have to say or do about 
the northward march of the Confederate army, which 
was on its way to capture New York. 

"There!" he said at last, "the rear-guard is out of 
sight. I'll creep out now and take to the woods again. 
I must get ahead as fast as I can, if I'm ever to deliver 
these things to General Lee." 

He drew a long breath as he went out from the 
shelter of the barn. The house it belonged to was at 
some distance, and he got away without being seen. 

There was a wide stubble-field to cross, and then a 
corn-field to creep through; and then he found him- 
self in a somewhat thistle-grown pasture-lot. 

"Cows!" he exclaimed. "Tip-top! I found plenty 
of eggs in the barn, and now I'll have some milk. If 
that farmer is on our side, he'd let me have it and 
welcome. If he is on the other side, I've a perfect 
right to capture milk and eggs from the enemy." 

He could not help laughing about it, but he was 


only doing as any other invading army would have 
done when he convinced a matronly-looking cow that 
he could milk her very well into a tin cup that he 
took out of his satchel. 

"Now for the woods," he shouted, "and won't I 
travel! " 

He had had a long rest in his hay-mow hiding-place, 
and he certainly proved himself a good walker ; but 
again and again he came to open places between 
patches of woodland, and again and again he saw 
moving columns of Federal troops — infantry, cavalry, 
and artillery. 

" Biggest Saturday afternoon ever I had ! " he said 
to himself just before sunset. " But now I'm hemmed 
in again — Yankees all around me. I'll try and get as 
far as I can by night. I can keep away from camp- 
fires easy enough. All I'm afraid of is their pickets 
and scouting parties. Wonder if any of our men have 
crossed over into Maryland?" 

That was a question nobody could settle for him 
that night, but he pushed on until not only darkness, 
but weariness compelled him to find another thicket 
and go to sleep. The one he found was in a very 
deep hollow — a ravine without any water running 
through it, and so very rocky and ragged that nothing 
but a woodchuck or a boy who wanted to hide would 
have thought of making a bedroom of it. 


Very early on Sunday morning Barry Redding stood 
in front of his looking-glass, and he was staring in- 
tently at something that was reflected in it. 

"I don't know what on earth they'll say," he re- 
marked. "It's the best suit of clothes I ever had on, 
but then! — if the others were too small, how much 
have I got to grow before these'll fit?" 

That was a problem, but Dave was even more in- 
tensely considering a very different question. He 
had overslept, because it was so late when he lay 
down; and he had been awakened by a racket that 
astonished him. 

"What a rattle!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Skir- 
mish? Why, the balls are cutting the trees right along 
the hollow! It won't do for me to stir." 

Boom, boom, boom! came another sound, and no- 
body needed telling that it was the voice of field artil- 
lery; but Dave waited and listened in vain for any 
response from the other side of the hollow. 

"If it was our men, they have retreated," he said 
to himself. " Don't I wish I dared go up and see what 
kind of a fight it was?" 

Again the cannon boomed ; and now he could hear 
the explosion of shells, and felt even more like lying 
still among his rocks. 

What he did not hear, however, were the angry 
remarks made by a bronzed gentleman in a dreadfully 


dingy Union uniform to another gentleman with a 
clear and fresh complexion and in an exceedingly 
elegant, new, and nicely fitting suit, bright buttons, 
and glistening shoulder-straps. 

"No apology, sir!" he said in conclusion. "No 
explanations needed! It's out-and-out militia work ! 
Greenhorns ! Blazing away half a ton of ammunition 
into a neck of woods, without an enemy nearer than 
Harper's Ferry!" 

With that he wheeled away, and even the horse he 
was riding threw up his heels as if in contempt of that 
kind of war ; for the officer in command of the militia 
had fired without orders, and without much more than 
an excited suspicion that there were enemies lurkins- 
in the forest beyond Dave's ravine. 

"What if a shell had tumbled down here?" thought 
Davis. "It would have taken me for a spy, and 
shelled me out. Guess I'd better keep still; but if 
our men are there, don't I v/ish I could join them!" 

He did not even know that they were not there ; 
and he finally crept from bush to bush and rock to 
rock, like a young Indian, before he reached a spot 
from which he dared to look out and discover that the 
valiant militia that had manufactured that one-sided 
skirmish had marched away— uniforms, guns, and 
all. What would Barry have thought if he could 
then have heard Dave exclaim : 


"This is the dullest kind of work! I want to get 
through to General Lee!" 

How could there be anything dull in dodging a 
whole army, and in being fired over by a battery of 
artillery and a regiment of militia? 

Dave said that it was ; and then he went into the 
very woods that had been fired at, and pushed on in 
a harassing, disappointing search for the Confederate 
part of all that firing. It had not been there. Noth- 
ing had been there but an unaccountable rej)ort, made 
by a militia scouting party, that they had discovered 
more or less of Lee's or somebody's army in ambush. 
Nevertheless, Davis felt sure that no Federal troops 
could be there, and so he could go ahead without 
danger of immediate interruption. 

"Sunday?" he said to himself. "Mother and Lil- 
ian will be at church, but I wish I were at General 
Lee's headquarters. At this rate I shan't get there 
before the end of the week." 



^ HE truce between Barry and Lilian had been 
made with reference to politics and army- 
matters. It did not include new clothes, 
and Barry was aware of it. Besides, it 
was Sunday morning and nearly church-time, 
and Lilian managed to keep the peace only 
until then. Barry stood for a full minute looking 
longingly at his old suit lying on a chair. As much 
of him as could get into that suit had been very 
much at home there. Much more of him was now 
stylishly covered up, but not comfortably — consider- 
ing the fact that it was now time to go downstairs. 
. Down he went, and he marched boldly into the par- 
lor, where the others were already assembled. The 
very first glances that came at him caused him to 
inquire : 

"Is it so very loose, mother?" 

"Why, Barry," she said, "it is pretty loose; but 
then it's such very warm weather!" 

No other criticisms were made aloud, but he felt 



absolutely sure from something in Lilian's face that 
she was thinking about his new suit. She was almost 
silent while they were walking along toward church ; 
but at length she said suddenly : 

"You are all in blue. Almost everyone we've met 
wears blue. Your suit is just like Dave's, too. I'm 
tired of it. I wish I could see some ranks of men 
in Southern gray or butternut. It won't be long, 
though, before I shall." 

"Yes, it will," said Barry, positively. 

Neither of them said anything more all the remain- 
der of the way, nor even when they reached the 
church and went into Mrs. Bedding's pew. It was a 
large, noble-looking church, and it was filling rapidly. 
Lilian and her mother hardly looked around them 
when they went in ; but Barry did, and he at once 
forgot all about the fit of his new blue suit. 

Over the puljDit were crossed two great banners, the 
Stars and Stripes, half furled and hung with crape. 

The moment Lilian lifted her head she turned and 
said to Barry: "Flags here? What for?" 

" 'Sh, Lilian!" whispered back Barry. "It's a 
funeral service for the members of the church who 
fell in battle. Don't you see? Those front pews are 
full of returned volunteers." 

"It's right!" was what Mrs. Randolph was saying 
to herself. 


"Yes," said Lilian to Barry, "but hear that grand 
organ! It almost speaks." 

Barry was silent. He was not so much hearing as 
he was feeling the full volume of thunderous yet wail- 
ing sound with which the air in that church w^as 
trembling. A great many people bowed their heads 

There came a sort of shudder in the music, and 
then through all the organ-sound there cleft another — 
a faint, gasping, quickly-cut-off cry of a woman's 

"I know how she feels," murmured Mrs. Randolph. 
" He did not come home. She could not help it. God 
help her! Poor thing, poor thing!" 

The great burst of solemn music slowly died away 
among the crowded aisles of the city church, as an 
altogether different kind of music rang out suddenly 
in a far-away and very different place. This was not 
in any church or city or village, but in a narrow and 
wooded valley, through the middle of which ran a 
stream with a dusty road to keep it company. The 
music here was very clear and sweet, for it came 
from a bugle, and its mellow notes carried orders to 
a column of mounted men. 

The officer who commanded them rode at their head, 
a little in advance ; but he drew his rein sharply as a 
boyish form stepped out from some bushes into the 


road, and a shrill, intensely agitated voice shouted, 

"Halt!" loudly echoed the officer. The bugle sent 
the order back to the very end of the column, and 
horses and men stood still. 

The boy was now at the side of the officer's horse, 
and leaned against it as he added, appearing to do so 
with great effort : 

" A strong force of Federal cavalry, four field-pieces, 
regiment of infantry, just beyond the ridge. Ee- 

"Who are you?" asked the officer, looking sternly 
down into the pale, upturning face of the boy. 

"Lean over, colonel," he said. "It's a secret. I 
must whisper. " The officer bowed low to hear. "I'm 
Davis Mason Randolph. My uncle. General John 
Mason Randolph. Disf)atches for General Lee — pri- 
vate !" There the whisper ended, for Dave had fainted 
away. . 

Down sprang the colonel. Down came another 
officer and two cavalrymen and the bugler. They 
lifted Dave and poured something into his mouth. 

"Not wounded, my boy?" asked the colonel, as 
Dave's eyes slowly opened. 

"No," said Dave; "but I've only eaten twice in 
more than two days. Been almost running since sun- 
rise. I've had to work my way around camps and 


through the woods and mountains. Dodging pickets 
and scouting parties. You haven't any time to lose. 
They're too strong for you." 

They made him eat and drink a Httle, and then 
they put him on a horse behind one of the men, and 
rode back along the winding valley. Hardly were 
they out of sight before there were men in blue uni- 
forms, and cannon posted upon the ridge Dave had 
pointed at, and men with picks and spades were throw- 
ing up a breastwork across the road ; for that little 
valley was one of the important passes of the terrible 
summer campaign in upper Maryland, and the Union 
forces had seized it just in time. 

Dave rapidly grew stronger, but the colonel agreed 
with him that he had no right to say much about his 
errand until he could say it to General Eandolph or to 
General Lee himself. 

"That, however, must be done right away," said 
the colonel. "Can you stand it to ride so far?" 

"I shan't faint again, now I've had something to 
eat," replied Dave. "I can ride till I see General 

"Plucky boy!" said the colonel; but Dave had a 
ride of many long miles before him. 

Still, it was not many hours later when there was 
a gathering of remarkable-looking men in a large 
room of an old farm-house, and the horse Dave had 


ridden stood hitched near the gate in front of the 

"General Eandolph," said an officer to whom one 
of the others had been talking, " you. have a right to 
be proud of your nephew. Where is he?" 

"Come in, Davis," said General Eandolph. "You 
are to report to General Lee." 

In came the all but worn-out boy messenger, and 
he had evidently been trying to brush the dust from 
his blue suit, but he had failed almost entirely. The 
room seemed to swim before him, but he gathered all 
his courage and strength to stand in the presence of 
those great warriors and tell them what he had 

General Lee's hand held the letter from Mrs. Ran- 
dolph to Uncle John, and he said kindly : 

"Speak right out, my boy!" 

"Flat-iron," began Davis, blushing and stammer- 
ing, as he pointed at the letter. 

"Of course!" interrupted the general. "Heat one 
at once! Now, Davis, what have you seen? You 
came with the Federal forces? Through them? 
Where are they?" 

"General Hooker's army is at Frederick, Mary- 
land," said Dave. " I crept around them in the night, 
through the hills, woods. All the Army of the Poto- 
mac is on its way to meet us. Close at hand " 


"Stop there!" exclaimed General Lee, while the 
other officers exchanged rapid glances, full of surprise. 
" This is the most important news we have had. We 
won't touch Harrisburg yet. All forces must be or- 
dered to concentrate near Gettysburg. General Ean- 
dolph, your nephew has selected the battle-ground 
where the fate of this war is to be decided." 

Dave felt like burning up rather than fainting 
away, but he was still weak from fasting and fatigue, 
and it required all his pluck to keep up and talk right 
on while the flat-iron was heating. He had a great 
many rapid questions put to him, and his answers in- 
cluded the talk of the gentlemen in the railway car 
on the way to Philadelphia. The sleepy boy in the 
seat corner by the window had hardly forgotten a 
word of it. 

The fiat-iron came, and his mother's letter was laid 
open upon a table and pressed hard. The invisible 
writing between the lines came out clear, black, leg- 
ible; and General Lee's face grew flushed and earnest 
as he read. 

"Gentlemen," he said to the few entirely trusted 
men around him, " New York is ready to rise on the 
day set for the draft, July 11th. We need but to win 
one sweeping victory a few days earlier. Our friends 
there are ready. They can take the city without a 
blow. What an hour this is ! I shall risk this army 


at Gettysburg upon the cast of that die ! What is it, 
General EandoljDh?" 

"Davis tells me that the city is full of discharged 
Federal soldiers — veterans — and that the police force, 
thoroughly drilled, are equal to a full brigade. There 
are gunboats in the harbor." 

"Just so, Randolph! Vernon says so. Mapleson 
understands it fully. He counts upon the thousands 
of drafted men who are determined not to be torn 
from their homes. They will not hinder him, if they 
do not help him. The sincere friends of the South, 
however, are even a more trustworthy reliance. They 

are equal in number to a corps of our army " 

He paused, and another general officer added, with a 
smile that seemed sarcastically bitter : 

" I know Mapleson. Tell it all, general! He will 
arm all the convicts in all the jails, all the worst part 
of the foreign population, and all the red -flag anarch- 
ists. They will all rise, and he will try and put them 
where they will all be killed. He is a genius ! We 
must win his victory for him. He won't care much 
for police and disbanded volunteers, now all the militia 
are out here to face us." 

That, too, had been part of the news Davis brought 
to his commander; but the next orders he received 
were to eat again and go to sleep. He obeyed both 
orders, although he tried to keep his eyes open after 


he lay down. It was of no use at all, for just as he 
was saying, " Don't I wish mother and Lilian knew 
where I am and what I've been doing! Isn't this 
splendid? I'm in the headquarters of General Lee! — 
the greatest general — " his eyelids came together, and 
all he could do after that was to dream. That was 
something, perhaps ; for in his dreams he seemed to 
himself to be talking with those he went to sleep 
thinking of. 

" There I sat, mother, hid in the hemlock tree, while 
the Federal cavalry rode by — thousands on thousands ! 
No, Lil, I didn't get hit, but the bullets buzzed right 
over me. I lay in the hollow I'd crept into till the 
skirmish was over. You can go without eating a 
day at a time, but you don't want to do it two days 
running — not if you're on a scout. But I saw 
General Lee and Uncle John. We're coming to 
take New York, soon's we've won this victory right 

While he was dreaming of his mother and sister, 
they were thinking of him. 

It was late in the day, and they were in their own 

"It is too bad," said Mrs. Eandolph, "that we can- 
not know what has become of him." 

"I believe he got through," said Lilian. "I feel 
sure of it. He is somewhere under our own flag. I 


mustn't put it out at the window, but I'm going to 
put it where I can see it. I won't leave it furled up 
all the time." 

It stood in a corner, as if waiting for either her or 
General Lee to come. She unrolled it, but the bed 
offered the only place to spread it — or the floor. After 
all, however, when it was fully opened out it had a 
look of being only another kind of Stars and Stripes. 
There was the same idea looking through it. 

"I know Dave is under it somewhere," she repeated 
positively ; but she could not have guessed the precise 
way in which she was literally correct. 

Davis lay upon a camp-bed, in a little, narrow, slop- 
ing-roofed, farmhouse bedroom ; and just then a foot- 
step came slowly in, and another ; and two men stood 
looking at him. 

"I will not wake him up, Kandolph," said one of 
them. "Let him sleep it out. I'll ask my questions 
by-and-by. When he wakes up, tell him I did this. 
Tell him to keep it." 

He held in his hand a Confederate flag and staff, 
of the ordinary signal-size. He unrolled it and spread 
it lightly over Dave, remarking in a low voice : 

"It's all the keepsake lean give him. God bless 
the boys of the South! Randolph, they must take 
your place and mine, one of these days. He will win 
his stars yet, if he lives." 

General Lee covers sleeping Dave with the Confederate flag. 


"That is a star for him, General Lee," replied Uncle 

Lilian herself would have said so. 

Hours later, when Dave's long slumber of exhaus- 
tion ended, and he opened his eyes, he uttered a loud, 
startled : 


It was as if he had called for somebody, and a sol- 
dier at once entered the room. 

"Yes, sir; what is it? I'm to take charge of you — 
General Randolph's orders. You are to follow the 
staff until you catch up with them." 

"Who put this here?" asked Dave. 

The soldier's eyes were dancing with eager enthusi- 
asm as he replied : 

"They say you deserved it. Glad you did! Big- 
gest honor any boy o' your inches ever got ! Why, 
my boy. General Lee put it there!" 

Dave sprang to his feet with the staff of that flag 
in his hand, but he could not speak. It was too much. 

"Come along!" said the soldier. "I know how 
you feel. Won't the boys cheer when they see ye 
with that? They know you worked your way clean 
through Hooker's army somehow. True Old Virginny 

He was evidently a Virginian himself, like Dave 
and General Lee, but he did not have one trouble that 


came to his young hero. It was an awful thing to 
Dave to have to lay that flag down while he managed 
a knife and fork. 

Barry was also in some trouble that afternoon. He 
was all in blue, without being in uniform ; and he felt 
that he must really be a soldier of some kind. He 
did not remain in the house, but took a walk — he 
hardly knew or cared where. 

" I want to know what's going on, " he said. " Dave 
did. He was bound to do something for his own side 
of the war, I can't do a thing ! Tell you what ! 
how'd I feel selling newspapers that told of a defeat 
of our army? I just couldn't! I won't!" 

He was feeling very patriotic, but he had not taken 
any pains to know what street he w^as walking in ; and 
at that moment he was called away from his own 
thoughts by the queerest shouting he had ever heard. 

He was passing by a dingy kind of house which 
looked to him, as he said, "like an empty beer-shop 
without any sign." Whatever else it was, he could 
see that it was crowded ; for the door stood half-way 
open, and he could look in. 

"I don't want to go in," he exclaimed; "but if that 
isn't Palovski !" 

There he was, on a platform at the other end of a 
long room, swinging his arms and shouting furiously, 
in a voice which now and then became almost a shriek. 


The room was densely packed with men, for the greater 
part poorly clad; and among them were scattered 
many women. All were bareheaded — men and wo- 
men alike — and all were listening excitedly, except 
when they applauded. 

"I wonder what language he is speaking in," said 
Barry. "Hullo! that's awful! It's like an auction- 
eer's flag, or a danger flag at a rock-blasting. I 
know what it means." 

True enough ! Palovski and his friends had a flag 
of their own ; and it was very red, like a flag of dan- 
ger or a flag of selling out after a failure. He swung 
it over his head, and he shouted more hoarsely than 
ever; and Barry caught the one word "draft!" but at 
that moment the door, which had been opened to let 
a little air into that hot room, was slammed shut, and 
he could see and hear no more. 

"Anarchists!" he said. "Palovski and all of them 
are opposed to the draft. I thought they only met in 
secret. Anyhow, nobody could guess what he's been 
saying, if 'twasn't for that red flag. There's a great 
deal in a flag. Hurrah for the Stars and Stripes! 
Old Glory!" 

"Dot's right, my poy!" exclaimed a hearty, cheery 
voice behind him. "I say so! I vas fight mit Sigel! 
Hurrah for de goot flag!" 

He v/as a big, yellow-bearded man, and looked as 


if he might count for something on any side he fought 
for. Barry was as glad to meet him as if he had been 
an old friend, and at once told him hurriedly about 
Palovski's meeting and the red flag. 

"Oh!" laughed the big German, contemptuously; 
"dose fellow? Dere vas no fight in dose anarchy. 
My poy, dot lot of fellow vas fit only to break stone 
een Sing Sing. Dey vas all t'ief, t'ief, roiiper, cut- 
t'roat ! — not von soldier among dem. I go in mit a 
goot club ant clean dem all out o' dot crib." 

"I wish you would, then," said Barry. "I'd like 
to burn up their red flag !" 

Kid Vogle liooting into the ear of Respectability. 



HE month of June came to a close in the 

middle of the week. It was one of the 

most excited weeks that New York had 

ever seen, but it was especially hard on 


"I say, Barry," shouted Kid, when they met 
near the Herald building early on Wednesday morn- 
ing, "isn't this just awful? You bet it is! You 
can't sell out one extra before there's another." 

"Any more news?" inquired Barry eagerly, but at 
that moment Kid's ever- watchful eyes were caught 
by a probable customer and he darted away. "He's 
got him!" exclaimed the Shiner. 

That was precisely so. An elderly, heavily made, 
very respectable man, with a bright silk hat on, had 
shoved it back a little to look up at the bulletin-board 
on the front of the Herald Building. He was trying 
to read something there, when it seemed to him as if 
an owl, or a young locomotive, had howled into his 
ear, "Ax-tree!" 



" Bless my soul ! What is it? You don't say?" 

But one hand went up toward that ear, and off 
went his hat, to be picked up and handed him by 
Barry, while he paid Kid for the "last extry." Just 
as the change was made, Kid suddenly exclaimed to 
his partners : 

"Eush in, boys! Get 'em! There's another extry 
comin' downstairs now. Mebbe Lee's been licked, or 

They were all off in a twinkling, and the old gen- 
tleman stood and looked at his purchase. 

" Bless my soul !" he exclaimed. " That makes four 
of the same kind that I've purchased this morning. 
But then, the boy was not aware of that fact, and I 
cannot justly find fault with him. I wish I knew how 
this battle is going to turn out. It is of vast impor- 
tance to the entire business community. Especially 
to the banking interest." 

He and Kid, therefore, were of somewhat the same 
mind, except that Kid was thinking more of the great 
newsboy interest. Barry was not thinking of either 
banks or newspapers during the next few minutes. 
He only succeeded in getting a few of that lot of 
Heralds, and they were going out of his hands 
pretty rapidly, when a voice he knew said to him 
hurriedly : 

"Barry, Barry! I want one! Keep one for me!" 


"Lilian!" exclaimed Barry. "You — away down 

"I couldn't help it," she said. "I want to know 
what's going on, and it's so tiresome staying in the 
house. Mother said I might come. Is there any 

"There's a paper," he said. "It's the last there is 
out; but there isn't anything yet." 

"There must be something pretty soon," began Lil- 
ian, putting a hand into her pocket, as if she were 
going to pay him. 

"No, you don't," he exclaimed, with a deep flush 
on his face. "If it wasn't my duty to make money 
for mother I couldn't sell papers — not this week. She 
needs it. Father'll be in that battle." 

"What battle?" asked an excited-looking gentleman 
who held out a hand for a copy of the Tribune extra. 

"Meade's battle with Lee," began Barry. "But I 
don't believe it's begun yet. It's only nine o'clock." 

All their eyes turned toward the great clock-face on 
the cupola of the City Hall, and sure enough 

"Just nine," said Lilian, "but what's that?" 

"Only a signal gun," said the gentleman. "It's 
from one of the forts in the harbor." 

"That's so," said Barry. 

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Lilian; "do you suppose the 
battle has really begun?" 


Nobody who heard that soHtary cannon speak out 
over the glancing, dancing, laughing water of New 
York Bay knew that precisely at nine o'clock a Union 
cavalry general, with other officers, stood in front of 
the old tavern in Gettysburg; and he was saying: 

"Major, what are you here for?" 

" Shoes for our brigade. " 

"Go back to your command at once!" 

" Why, general, what's the matter?" 

The general had turned his head as if listening, and 
they all heard the dull and far-away sound of a single 
heavy gun. 

"That's what's the matter!" shouted the general, 
stepping forward, springing to the saddle of his horse, 
and dashing rapidly away. 

The battle of Gettysburg, which both armies had 
been so many days preparing for and marching to- 
ward, had begun at nine o'clock, July 1st. 

"Barry," said Lilian, "I'd rather sell papers or do 
almost anything than sit in the house and wait." 

"You'd better go home, though," said Barry. "If 
there's any news at noon, and there won't be, I'll try 
and bring it." 

Away walked Lilian w^ith her paper, and with an 
idea that City Hall Square w^as about the hottest, 
most crowded, most disagreeable place she knew of. 

"The Stars and Stripes everywhere!" she said; 


"but it won't be long before I shall come down to see 
our own flag on the City Hall, and on all the other 
buildings. I'll take mine and go out to meet our 
army when it marches in." 

Her eyes flashed, her cheeks reddened, her step grew 
prouder, and she had only walked a little further when 
she added : 

"Don't I wish I were a regiment! They say there 
are no Federal troops in New York just now. If 
General Lee knew, or if he could send some of ours 
here! Uncle John's brigade could take the city. I'd 
be sorry for Barry and his mother, though. Oh dear 
me ! But Dave will tell them all about it. I believe 
he has got there and told already. Uncle John will 
be in the battle. Davis won't." 

Up-town, in the boarding-house, Mrs. Eedding and 
Mrs. Randolph had met in the dining-room. They 
stood a moment and looked each other in the face; 
for they too had been talking about the coming strug- 
gle between the armies. 

"Mrs. Eedding," said her Southern friend, "you 
needn't say another word. I know precisely how you 
feel. God keep him! Once, you know, it was my 
own husband." 

"Indeed, we mustn't talk about it," said Mrs. Red- 
ding. "I dare not let myself think about it. I do 
hope they won't let Dave " 


And that was really all they could say, for they 
were like nearly all other people — they knew what 
was coming, and somehow they felt almost sure that 
a fight was going on. 

Barry went right along selling newspapers, but he 
probably did not guess how often he said to himself : 

"I wish I were there! — right in the middle of it — 
somewhere near father! I'd give anything to be in 
one real, great battle !" 

Once only he added : 

"Perhaps I'll see a battle if I stay where I am. If 
there's any danger of New York being captured I'll 
get a gun somehow. Oh, but won't there be a fight 
before they get in!" 

He was working his way homeward, selling out all 
his morning papers as he went; and he was at last 
saying, just inside of his own doorway : 

" Yes, mother, there was a bulletin on the Tribune 
board that Lee and Meade were firing;" and Lilian 
interrupted with : 

" Davis is there — I know he is ! I wish I could see 

"You can be mighty glad you're not there then," 
replied Barry. "You couldn't do one thing if you 

"I could stand anything Dave can," said Lilian. 
But girls can't do anything." 


"Perhaps they can," said Barry. "Who was it 
swung that flag? But you mustn't do it again — not 
just now. 'Twouldn't be so safe." 

Barry had more to tell, and he had brought papers ; 
but he had not brought the very latest news. The 
newsboys who remained down-town had a little more, 
and Kid Vogel did not at all know what he meant 
when he dashed down Broadway, shouting : 

" Vicksburg! Grant! Goin' to salt it right away! 
Yes, sir. Mr. Mapleson. HeraV, Times, WorP, 
Sun! " 

"I'll take a copy of each," said the dignified man 
with the stiff, white moustache. "Going to try to 
take Vicksburg by assault, is he? Then he's crazy." 

That had been at about noon, but people in the 
North should have been listening for sounds in the 
Southwest, as well as at Gettysburg, at nine o'clock 
that morning. All around Vicksburg and the long 
lines of earthworks it seemed to be one roar of sound. 
The Federal works had been somehow drawing nearer 
and nearer that town. The Confederate works had 
not narrowed any, but they had a shut-up look, and 
as if they and the men behind them were getting 
tired out. 

Nine o'clock ! and suddenly one sound boomed loudly 
above all the others. It was a great burst of sound, 
and a part of one of the most important Confederate 


forts, or works, went up into the air in a vast cloud 
of dust and smoke and fire. A mine had been dug 
away in under it, and a ton of gunpowder had been 
fired off at once. If Barry could have seen it he 
might have gained one more idea about war; for 
when the dust settled there could be seen a great gap, 
through which men could charge whenever the time 
should come for them to do so. It was the news of 
the explosion of that mine which was telegraphed to 
New York, and which made Kid Vogel shout : 

"Salt! Vicksburg!" all the way down Broadway. 
He was no more excited than usual, although he 
seemed to hoot louder. Perhaps his voice was im- 
proving with constant training, but there was no need 
of it. 

Barry, on the other hand, was very silent at the 
house, and so was Lilian. There seemed to be a 
feeling that they ought to be enemies that day, even 
if they really were not. Anyhow, Barry left the table 
as soon as he could ; and his mother quickly followed 
him, for he had beckoned her. 

"What is it?" she said. 

"Mother," he exclaimed, "we can't do anything; 
but I do hope Lil won't bring out that Secesh flag to- 
day. She mustn ' t ! " 

"Indeed she must not!" replied Mrs. Eedding. "I 
hope she won't be so foolish." 


"They shall never take New York, mother!" 

" They never will ! Barry?" 

"Well, mother?" 

" How much money have you got laid by, besides 
what you need for papers?" 

"More'n four dollars," said Barry. 

"Well!" exclaimed his mother, with energy, and 
with a good deal of excitement in her eyes. "Mr. 
Mickles has paid his bill at last. He means all right, 
but he's awful slack; and I've paid all I owe; and I 
won't be without a gun or something to shoot with 
in this house." 

"Just what I was thinking of!" shouted Barry. 
"I v/ant to buy a revolver. I know where I can get 
a real good one — large size, cheap. Second-hand, but 
it's a Colt's six-shooter." 

"Go and get it!" she said. "Get two if you can! 
Get ammunition. 'Tisn't right not to have them. 
I don't know what to get. Revolvers are better than 
guns, I guess. Two revolvers '11 go off a dozen 

"Hurrah!" shouted Barry again; for she handed 
him three five-dollar bills. "I'm off! I'll get 'em! 
Mother, put the flag in the parlor window and keep it 
flying! This house is Union !" 

Part of it was, beyond a doubt, as any one passing 
along the street could shortly see ; but the back room 


on the third floor, nevertheless, could not be entered 
without the discovery that the mirror over the dress- 
ing-bureau was liberally draped with the Stars and 
Bars; while under them lay a sword in a sheath. 

"There, now!" said Lilian, as she finished placing 
the folds of bunting; "I just love that flag! Isn't it 
splendid? We won't have to hide it a great while 

"Lilian," said Mrs. Randolph, in a low, tremulous 
voice, "if General Lee had with him all the brave 
men who cannot be there to-day, he might win the 

She was looking at the sheathed sword, and then 
Lilian looked at it; and then — well, neither of them 
could see anything for a few minutes. So much mist 
arose in their eyes that it hid the flag and the sheathed 
sword that was sheathed forever, 

"Barry!" shouted Kid, when they again met in 
City Hall Square, "ain't this awful? There's an 
extry every half-hour. They're fightin' like cats an' 

"Let's pitch in!" replied Barry; but Kid did not 
hear him add to himself, "I've got to make money! 
If Lee should beat Meade, I'd want to buy lots of 

It was a great day for newsboys, except that they 
could not get papers fast enough. Everybody was 


wild to buy, and the crowd in front of the Stock 
Exchange filled the street from curbstone to curb- 

There was a lull at last, and Barry had a whole 
minute to think in. 

"Soon 's I get another batch of papers," he ex- 
claimed, "I know! I'll sell 'em on Maiden Lane! 
There's some big gun and pistol stores along there." 

It seemed like killing two birds with one stone, and 
it was getting late in the day. The stores might be 
shut if he should wait too long. He had seen them 
all before, and had stared in at the great show win- 
dows at the rifles, bayonets, swords, knives, pistols, 
cartridges, and miniature cannon. They were places 
that seemed to be jammed full of war. 

He was only a few minutes in getting there, but 
he did not have to carry his load of extra papers far. 
They were almost taken away from him by eager men 
who would hardly wait for their change. 

"I've made more money to-day!" he remarked. 
"I'll get big-sized pistols. They carry half a mile." 

He was staring into a large, busy-looking establish- 
ment, but so was somebody else. In fact, there was 
quite a little gathering on the sidewalk ; and Barry 
heard a harsh, gutteral voice speaking in low tones, 
but he thought he knew it. 

"We only need one pistol to each of us now. 'Tis 


all we need buy. We shall seize this place first. 
There's enough right here to arm our friends." 

"Here, Palovski!" growled another voice; "de 

"Down there," replied Palovski, pointing toward 
the basement of the store. "They keep it secret, but 
he says it is down there. He is to be drafted. He 
works with them long time. He's one of us." 

"Humph!" muttered Barry; "I know what he 
means. One of the clerks in the store is an anarch- 
ist. They keep a pile of cartridges in the cellar. 
More there than anybody supposes. Wonder if I 
ought to do anything? I don't know." 

Further down the street was a different kind of 
man, who seemed to be also in doubt what to do. 

"Mr. Mapleson," said he, "glad to meet you. How 
are things goin'? Have you seen the latest dis- 
patches from Gettysburg?" 

"The papers, Hunker?" said Mapleson, looking 
icier than ever. "I don't care what they say. Lee 
is sweeping all before him. This day is a defeat for 
the Army of the Potomac." 

" Is everything ready here?" asked Hunker. "All 
I know of is, what our folks want is arms." 

"There they are," said Maj)leson, pointing back 
along the street. " We shall have them first thing — 
all the militia armories and the gun factories at the 


same hour — every gun store in the city, all the gov- 
ernment depositories of arms — enough to fit out an 
army corps! — cannon, too!" 

"The gunboats will protect the Navy Yard, " said 
Hunker. We can't cross the East River in ferry- 
boats against them." 

" We shall not need to, " said Mapleson. " The Navy 
Yard is to be captured from the Brooklyn side. There 
are heavy guns there — enough to knock all the gun- 
boats to pieces. New York is ours, safely enough. 
You and your men will take care of the provision 

"Everything," said Hunker; "and all the clothing 
stores. But about the Sub-Treasury and the banks?" 

" They will all be full of men at the same stroke of 
the clock," said Mapleson. "That is the easiest part 
of the whole job. The red-flag people will seize the 
police-stations, while the policemen are scattered all 
over the city." 

Barry did not hear that conversation. Nobody else 
but the two conspirators heard it; for it passed be- 
tween them in low, intensely secret whispers, and they 
separated at a street corner — each to his own part of 
what he believed was about to come to pass. 

Even what Palovski had said was temporarily driven 
from Barry's mind by the excitement of buying two 
large Colt's navy revolvers at half-price, and a hundred 


rounds of copper cartridges. Both of his weapons had 
seen service and were "second-hand," but they were 
in good condition. His fingers trembled when he tried 
the locks, but he made a great effort to look as if he 
were used to pistols. 

"Going into the army?" asked the man behind the 
counter, as he wrapped up Barry's purchases for him. 

"Wish I was at Gettysburg!" said Barry. 

"If you were you would wish you were here again," 
laughed the salesman. 

"Tell you what, though!" said Barry, "I wouldn't 
want to be in this store on the day of the draft." 

"Why not?" inquired a deep voice behind him, and 
Barry turned around to see a powerful-looking man 
in police uniform. "Why not?" he asked again. 
"I'm police inspector." 

"Because the drafted men are going to fight the 
draft if Meade gets whipped at Gettysburg," said 
Barry; "and they're coming here to get these guns." 

"That's just what we won't let them do, then," 
said the Inspector, laughing. "I've heard that talk. 
Where did you hear it?" 

"In that crowd at the door," said Barry. "No; 
they're gone now." 

"I saw them," nodded the Inspector. "We shall 
be ready for them." 

"My father's in the army," said Barry. "I'm too 


young yet. Mother told me to buy these things. I 
don't believe Lee can whip Meade." 

He felt confused before the inspector's keen, pierc- 
ing eyes, and he was quite willing to hurry away ; but 
the tall officer turned to the salesman and said : 

"Do you know, that boy is right? I look for trou- 
ble. So do we all. That is, if the Army of the 
Potomac is beaten." 

"They say it is," replied the salesman, gloomily. 

" Only for one day," said the inspector, with energy. 
"It always takes our boys three days to find out 
whether they are whipped or not. General Lee has a 
rough road to travel after that, too." 

It is not at all strange, sometimes, that sensible 
men who are far away from each other should think 

Davis Eandolph, down beyond Gettysburg, could 
not hear the remarks of the inspector, but he could 
hear what was said by some men who were speaking 
close by him, as the long midsummer day waned hoth^ 
toward an end. 

"General," said one of them, "what do you think 
now? We have driven the Federals all day. It's a 
complete victory!" 

"No, it is not," was thoughtfully responded ; "it's 
only a beginning. We have only broken the outer 
edges of Meade's army. You must remember that it 


is the old Army of the Potomac. We have met them 
before. What do you think, General Randolph?" 

"I think we have done well to-day. I think we 
shall beat them again to-morrow. Very likely we 
shall beat them again the third day." 

"I thought you would say so," exclaimed the first 
speaker, "but you were going to say something more." 

"Yes," said the other general; "what then — after 
the third day's victory?" 

"Then?" said General Randolph, with an expression 
of pain on his face that Davis took sharp notice of — 
"Then, all that's left of us will go back to Virginia." 

They were walking away toward General Lee's 
headquarters as they talked, and Dave looked after 
them with a feeling of astonishment. 

"Retreat?" he said to himself, "after a big victory? 
Why, no ; as soon as our friends up there have taken 
New York, this army will march right in and keep 
possession of it. That's what General Lee means to 
do. All they want there is just the victory we are 



'LL over the great city, on that second day 
of July, 1863, there seemed to be a kind 
of hush. Everybody was up very early, 
and work and business seemed to go on as 
usual. It was a long day, and it was dread- 
fully hot, for besides all the heat of the sun 
people were suffering from a burning fever of sus- 
pense. The only sign of coolness to be discovered 
anywhere was when two persons met who had an idea 
that they were on opposite sides in national affairs. 
The men whose hearts were with General Meade and 
the Army of the Potomac were very icy to the men 
whose hearts might be with General Lee. Even Barry 
Redding, as he was going out of the house in the 
morning, remarked to himself: 

"I'm just glad Dave isn't here to-day. I don't 
want to see him. Glad I dodged out, too, before 
Lihan or Mrs. Randolph came downstairs. I don't 
want to see anybody that isn't on our side." 

Lilian felt somewhat as he did, for she said to her 
mother : 



"I know we shall win the victory, and I don't want 
Barry to see how glad I am." 

"Yes, Lilian," rejDlied Mrs. Eandolph thoughtfully; 
"I would be careful. lam sorry for Mrs. Eedding. 
She must be feeling very badly to-day." 

Mrs. Eedding was in her room just then, and there 
was a peculiar look on her face. It was not at all 

Before her on her dressing-bureau lay both of 
Barry's purchases at the gun-store, and she had 
opened a box of metallic cartridges. 

" I know how to put them in now, " she said. " I've 
snapped and snapped them, till I know just how to 
fire them off. I wish Barry and I, and all the women 
who feel as I do, could re-enforce our troops at Gettys- 

She did not speak of Vicksburg ; perhaps because it 
was so far away in the Mississippi Valley, and per- 
haps because her husband was not there ; but Barry 
read something about it in the papers he was selling. 
So did other people, but it seemed as if the war in the 
West was somehow hidden a little by the great clouds 
of battle in the East. Nevertheless, when Mr. Hunker 
met Mr. Mapleson he asked : 

"What if that good-for-nothing fellow Grant should 
really take Vicksburg?" 

"It wouldn't make any difference what he took," 


replied Mr. Mapleson calmly, "if the Army of the 
Potomac is thoroughly beaten at Gettysburg to-day, 
as it will be, and if we take New York. This is a 
bigger political fort than Vicksburg. I think we shall 
know to-night or to-morrow morning, but we must 
keep very still." 

"I'll talk Union all day," exclaimed Mr. Hunker. 
"The Lincoln men are feeling ugly. It isn't safe to 
rile 'em. I don't care to run no risks." 

That was a little like what Kid Vogel said to the 
Shiner and Barry. 

"Look out, boys!" he advised them. "Jest holler 
extry, and say it's latest erdish'n. I got shook by one 
old feller, like I was a rat, for hollerin' 'Defeat of the 
P'tomick. ' He bought one paper of each kind, 
though — all 'round — and said he'd find out how it 
really was." 

"Don't you worry!" said Barry. "Nobody knows 
how a battle's going till it's all over." 

Newspapers were demanded that day faster than 
they could be printed ; only that every buyer wanted 
a later edition than the one that was out. The Shiner 
remarked : 

"Biggest day we ever had! but what if the tele- 
graph-wire breaks down? Wouldn't that be awful?" 

"Guess it won't," said Kid; "but if it did, they'd 
run out extries just the same. Do you s'pose they'd 


stop printin', long 's there was fellers lioldin' out 

"Not much!" replied the Shiner; but Barry turned 
away, saying to himself: 

" Seems to me I was never so tired in all my life. 
It's the battle." 

That was it. Everybody grew more and more 
weary as the shadows lengthened and the day of sus- 
pense drew slowly to a close. 

The telegraph-wires had worked hard, as had the 
printing-presses ; but neither had broken down. 

They were busier than ever when at last Barry 
stood still on a street corner, saying : 

"I don't care! I won't sell another paper! I'll take 
these home with me. I can't stand it!" 

So it seemed to others; for even the packed street- 
car he went uptown in was as silent as if it belonged 
to a funeral procession. 

Even the people who had remained indoors wore a 
wilted look, as if they had been undergoing the fatigue 
of a battle in the hot sun, 

" I do wish Barry 'd get home ! I want to see what 
the news is," said Mrs. Kandolph to Lilian. "It is so 
late! Why doesn't he come home?" 

"I want him to come, and I don't," said Lilian. 
"He and his mother will feel dreadfully. There! he's 
coming in now! I hope he has brought some papers." 


He had ; but when he reached the house he went 
straight to his mother's room. 

"I knew I'd find you here," he said, as he gave her 
the papers. " 

"Why, Barry!" she exclaimed, "what is it?" for he 
at once threw himself, face downward, upon the bed. 

"They say we are defeated!" he groaned. 

She turned pale for a moment, and then she slowly 
opened a paper. 

"I don't believe it," she said. "I won't believe it! 
Why, Barry, you must have read the wrong paper. 
The battle's only half done. Barry, get up! The 
Forty -second hasn't been in the fight at all yet, so far 
as I can see. No, it wasn't yesterday, either. Your 
father will come home as good as ever after Meade 
has beaten Lee. I'll take the other papers to Mrs. 
Eandolph. They need all the comfort they can get." 

"I'll read this while you are gone," he said, as he 
stood up again. "Guess I was tired." 

"Thank you," said Mrs. Eandolph, as the papers 
were handed in. " We did so want to see them. Is 
it a victory?" 

"Nobody knows what it is," replied Mrs. Eedding. 
"Our troops are getting there. Eead the papers." 

She hurried away, as if something in her throat 

prevented her saying more; but as she re-entered her 

own room Barry said to her : 


" Mother, I feel better. Tell you what ! I heard an 
army officer say down-town, if this keeps on, and they 
fight to-morrow, both sides '11 be used up, like two 
Kilkenny cats, and that '11 be the end of Lee's inva- 

"Not if he wins a victory," she said. 

"Well," replied Barry, "he said a three days' vic- 
tory was as bad for him as one day's defeat." 

Barry himself could not understand it or explain it, 
but he was glad it had been said by a man with eagle 
shoulder-straps and a pair of crutches, 

"Tm glad we can't see the battle-field to-night," 
said his mother to Mrs. Eandolph, when they met be- 
fore supper. "It must be terrible! — dreadful!" 

"Yes," said Mrs. Randolph, with a shudder; "I 
saw some of the battle-fields around Richmond — the 
first great battles between Lee and McClellan. This 
must be worse." 

"How I wish I knew if Dave is there!" said Lilian. 

Nobody ever sees the whole of a battle-field; and 
Dave was there without having seen any great part 
of the first or second day's fighting. 

"Here I have been all day," he said. "I've heard 
the roar of guns; I've seen troops and cannon go for- 
ward ; I've seen any amount of smoke ; but I haven't 
seen any battle. Have we really won a victory, Uncle 


They were standing in front of a tent near which 
an orderly held the horse from which Uncle John had 

"I've seen some of it," he said, in reply. "Yes, 
we have beaten them so far; but they are the best sol- 
diers on the earth — next to ours. Braver men never 
walked! This is a horrible war! I wish it were 
over !" 

"Shall we finish our victory to-morrow?" asked 
Dave. "If we don't we shall never take New York." 

"I can't talk any more to-night," said Uncle John. 
"I'm exhausted. I must go in and sleep as long as 
I can. I'll have something to say to you to-morrow 

It was getting dark, and it was only now and then 
that the brooding silence was broken by the sound of 
a distant cannon. 

"Strangest thing!" said Dave to himself, as his 
uncle went into the tent. "Some of the hardest 
fighting of yesterday was done close by where we are 
camped now. Our boys drove the Federals right 
across all this ground. But, for all that, I can't guess 
where the fighting has been to-day, nor where it is 
going to be to-morrow." 

He was only a boy, and it was no wonder he was 
puzzled; for that was the very question before two 
councils of war. General Lee and his best advisers 


were receiving reports from all parts of the field, and 
were in great doubt about what would be their best 
plan for the next day. General Meade had called 
together his corps commanders, and had asked them 
whether it were best to retreat or to fight again. 
They, had decided to fight, with much doubt as to 
j)recisely the lines and manner of the battle. 

They decided all the questions that seemed to be be- 
fore them, and they decided one question more that 
they did not know or mention. 

This question was discussed by a little knot of men 
in an elegantly furnished room in a hotel of the great 
city itself. 

"On the whole, Mapleson," asked one of them, 
"how does it look?" 

"Look?" said Mr. Mapleson; "it all looks one way. 
Meade is only half defeated. If he and his generals 
were worth their salt they would fight again. They 
will not, though. They will retreat; and as soon as 
it is known here that they have retreated the draft is 
impossible, and New York is ours the day they try 
it on." 

So the draft was one of the questions decided by 
General Meade and his council of war, without one 
general among them all dreaming that they were de- 
ciding it. 

There were thousands asleep upon the battle-field — 


thousands who were worn-out with the combats and 
marches of the day, and thousands more who would 
never awake again. There were other thousands who 
could not sleep, because of the pain their wounds gave 
them ; and besides all these were the sleepless watchers 
and the sore hearts full of grief over the events of 
the day and of anxiety concerning the results of the 
morrow. There had really been two victories and two 
defeats ; for the right wing only of the Army of the 
Potomac had been beaten, and so had the right wing 
of the army under General Lee. The Union centre 
had also been somewhat broken, however ; and things 
did not look very well. 

The sun of the third day of July arose above the 
horizon red and lowering; and its first clear light, 
long before it was high enough to look down into the 
streets of the city, found Lilian Eandolph at her 

"I feel just as you do," said her mother, coming to 
sit down by her. "I couldn't sleep, either. It seems 
as if everybody ought to be up and dressed. Oh, what 
a day this is going to be!" 

" I want to know where Dave is !" exclaimed Lilian. 
" I wish I could see the battle ! — see the splendid regi- 
ments of the South, with our flag at their head, charg- 
ing on to victory !" 

" Or else " began Mrs. Randolph, but there she 


stopped and both were silent; for "or else" meant a 
great deal in the morning before a great battle. 

"It was real good of you, Dinah," said Barry, down 
in the dining-room, " to get up so early and have my 
breakfast ready." 

"Bress yer soul, honey!" exclaimed Diana, as she 
came in with some coffee ; " I jes' wants ye to git out 
of de house and go an' see wot news dar is from de 
wall. I wish dey all had a good breakfuss 'fore dey 

Some of them did, and some of them did not ; for 
the cooking arrangements around a battle-field are 
never very good. The rattle of musketry and the 
roar of cannon, however, began with the dawn. 
There was hard fighting all along the lines after 
that, but toward noon there was a strange and terri- 
ble lull. 

"Uncle John," said Dave, as he stood beside him 
on the crest of a ridge, " I can see more of the enemy 
than I ever did before; but what does this mean? 
Isn't something great coming?" 

"Yes," said Uncle John, with a deep shadow on 
his face. "Look at the Federal lines! Look at ours! 
We are about to make the greatest charge of this war. 
If we succeed, the Army of the Potomac is destroyed; 
if we fail " 

Dave felt his heart beating very hard. 


"What then, Uncle John?" he asked. 

"Take this letter and hand it to your mother," re- 
plied Uncle John, in a low but steady tone of voice. 
" It tells her where to find my will. Now you must 
keep near General Lee. He will have an important 
errand for you at about sunset. Good-by!" 

Dave tried to ask another question, but his voice 
utterly failed him. Before he could recover himself 
Uncle John sprang upon his horse ; for just then a 
signal gun rang out from a battery near them, and 
the next moment the earth shook with the almost 
simultaneous roar of one hundred and fifteen cannon. 
Almost instantly an equal number replied to them 
from the Federal batteries. 

"There is such a smoke, "said Dave to himself after 
a while, " that I cannot see what is going on, but I be- 
lieve our men are moving. It has been nothing but 
artillery work these two hours. It's a tremendous 

He was silent then, for the heavy firing ceased, a 
wind lifted the smoke, and Dave could see the long 
lines of brave men under the Confederate General 
Pickett go forward to their desperate undertaking. 

"Uncle John said they were about seventeen thou- 
sand — the best troops of our army! There's his 
brigade. He is leading it in person. Hurrah!" 

His voice was cracked and hoarse with excitement, 


but he could wave the flag General Lee had given him. 
He might have shouted again, if it had not been for 
a sense of awe which suddenly came over him as he 
whispered : 

"There is General Lee! — watching the great charge 
through his telescope." 

An hour went by — another — in what seemed to 
Dave a long, awful dream, in which he stared at a 
far-away ridge of ground which was crowned with 
smoke and fire and fighting men. 

"I can't stay here!" he said at last ; "but I must. 
I must obey Uncle John's orders. Oh, how I want to 
be there! But I must stay near General Lee. I'd 
be wearing shoulder-straps if I were a man!" 

At some little distance beyond the crest of the hill, 
where the closest, hardest fighting had been done, a 
man in the uniform of a Confederate brigadier-general 
lay upon the grass ; and by him — apparently watch- 
ing him — sat a Union captain, who was at the same 
time bandaging a wounded leg of his own. Here and 
there near them were men with stretchers, carrying 
away other wounded men. A mounted officer came 
past them, as if looking for somebody. 

"Ah, there he is!" he said, pointing at the wounded 
Confederate general. "Captain Bedding, can you 
give me his name?" 


"He has not spoken," said Captain Redding; "but 
he is handing me a letter;" for one was feebly held 
out to him just as the mounted man said to the 
wounded Confederate general: 

"General Doubleday has sent me, sir, to inquire 
your name and rank, and see what can be done for 

"Captain Eedding, " murmured the wounded officer, 
"don't show that to any one ! Send it ! I can trust a 
brave comrade — " but he looked up at the messenger 
leaning in the saddle to hear him, and added, "Tell 
General Doubleday, in a few minutes I shall be where 
there is no rank." 

His eyes closed. 

"Gone?" asked the messenger. 

"Gone," replied Captain Redding, and General 
Doubleday 's aide galloped away; but Captain Red- 
ding put the letter into his own pocket, remarking: 

" 'Mrs. Helen M, Randolph ' — at my own house in 
New York ! Strange ! I hope I shall not lose my leg. " 

The roar of the battle went on, and Dave heard it; 
and he watched with burning eyes, for he was begin- 
ning to understand something which made his heart 

" Come ! General Lee has sent for you. " 

He heard the officer speak, and he followed him. 
Then he knew, dimly and half -blindly, that he stood in 


the presence of General Lee, and that the great com- 
mander spoke to him. He saw him take a Confed- 
erate ten-dollar hill and tear it in two in the middle 
and again lengthwise. 

"Go to New York," said General Lee, "and hand 
that to Mr. Vernon. If you lose it, get another and 
show him the torn pieces. He will understand. Go!" 

Dave half staggered as he walked away ; for now 
he knew that General Pickett's grand charge had 
failed, and that the army under General Lee had been 
defeated. He had thought that impossible. 

"Can it be?" he said. "Why, the battle isn't 
over ! Listen to the roar of guns ! He must know 
better than I do. Anyhow, I must obey orders. I 
must go to New York. I wish I could see Uncle John 

Before him, farther than he could see, were scat- 
tered the still-surging wrecks of the great battle of 
Gettysburg. The artillery on both sides — what was 
left of it — was still at work. 

Eegiments and brigades were charging, struggling 
for the last mastery. Broken detachments on both 
sides were surrendering, or trying to escape capture. 
Cavalry squadrons were dashing against each other at 
several hard-contested points. It was a smoky horror 
of confusion, which the best generals of each army 
could not yet quite understand. 

s ** 


Dave starts for New York with General Lee's message. 


"I've only one duty," said Dave, "and I must do 
that. No, T won't throw away my flag. I'll wrap it 
up in that Stars and Stripes and carry it with me." 

A Union flag lay on the ground where there were 
many motionless forms around a dismounted field- 
piece, and Dave picked it up. 

"I must get myself taken prisoner, I suppose," he 
said. "I'll go straight ahead." 

How he did it he hardly knew, for he passed through 
throngs of excited, shouting, jDOwder-blackened sol- 
diers. Falling shells burst near him. Bullets buzzed 
past his head. He heard the clash of sabres and the 
rattle of rifles. 

"General Lee is defeated! General Lee is defeated!" 
he murmured to himself every now and then. " He 
has ordered me to New York, and I must go." 



j^^ir^/^ T was a little late when Barry reached home 
^'m that 3d of July, 1863. He came into the 
^^ house at the basement door, and found 


the dining-room apparently deserted. 
"Mother, mother!" he shouted; "Vicksburg 
has surrendered !" and he added, as she came 
hurrying in, "I'm so tired I can hardly stand up," 

"But what about Gettysburg?" she asked, almost 
breathlessly. "Is there any news from Gettys- 

"Yes," he said; but, as if it were almost too great 
a thing to tell — "Lee is defeated!" 

Down she droj)ped into a chair, while he went on : 

"There was a telegram just come before I started 
for home. There have been all sorts all day. We 
were all so hoarse we couldn't holler — not even Kid. 
One man sat down on the curbstone and cried, and 
two lame soldiers hugged each other. The people are 

almost crazy, they are so glad." 



"Why, Barry!" exclaimed his mother; "then it 
must be true! New York is safe. Oh! your father!" 

" They've been fighting hard all day," gasped Barry, 
as he too sat down; "but they say it's a victory." 

"Lilian," whispered somebody in the hall, "let's go 
to our room ! I don't want to hear any more." 

"It can't be so, mother, "said Lilian with a dry sob, 
but they hurried away; and hardly had they shut 
their door behind them when she again exclaimed, "It 
isn't so! I won't believe it !" 

A deep shadow had fallen on Mrs. Randolph's face 
as well as on Lilian's, but she replied: 

"I'm afraid it is true. Your Uncle John said in 
one of his letters that if those two armies got face to 
face again it would ruin both of them." 

"Oh, Dave!" exclaimed Lilian, as she threw herself 
on the sofa; "he may be killed!" 

"Barry!" suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Eedding, down 
in the dining-room; "I'm afraid they heard you. 
They were in the hall. I'm so sorry!" 

"So am I," said Barry; "but if they did, we won't 
have to tell them. Poor Lilian!" 

That was an exceedingly long evening, for it was 
measured partly by doubts and partly by a continual 
stream of telegraphic dispatches. Nobody wanted to 
go to bed at all, for fear bad news might come from 
the battle-field while the city was asleep. 


There was indeed a great deal of confusion and un- 
certainty in the dispatches from Gettysburg, and Mr. 
Hunker said so to Mr, Mapleson, adding : 

"Of course the Lincohi journals put the best face 
they can on to it, but they've been pretty roughly 

"Of course they have," replied the cold, hard, 
steady -minded politician; "but the Army of the 
Potomac did not retreat. It fought hard all day, and 
that is the end of Lee's march, northward. We can 
just shut up and keep still." 

"But the draft?" said Mr. Hunker. 

"Let it alone," said his keen-eyed friend. "It is 
not any of our business now. I don't propose to burn 
my fingers." 

Mr. Hunker walked away looking very gloomy, but 
Mr. Mapleson went on up the street erect, smiling, 
vigorous; and to the first man he spoke to he said, in 
a loud, clear voice: 

" The Army of the Potomac has only fulfilled my 

"What was that, sir?" inquired a stern-looking by- 
stander in uniform. " I thought you were a Copper- 
head?" and he added, in an undertone, "You are, 

"If that means a man of common sense," replied 
Mr. Mapleson, "so I am; but I prophesied that if our 


troops would only stand their ground, Lee would 
retreat into Virginia. You will see that I am 

" Of course you are. But I supposed you were on 
the other side." 

"Hoping for the destruction of my own city?" said 
Mr. Mapleson. " Why, my dear general, I'm a man 
of sense." 

So he seemed to be — a man of too much sense to 
let anybody suppose that he belonged to the defeated 
army in any way. Sensible people also went to sleep 
at last, and so did one utterly wearied -out young 
fellow whom the darkness had overtaken near a 
Pennsylvania rail-fence corner, into which he could 
crawl and lie down. 

When the darkness again departed, in the early 
sunrise of Saturday, the Fourth of July, Dave slowly 
awoke and sat up. He seemed for a few moments to 
be trying to collect his wits and remember something 
that had happened. 

"Defeated?" he said to himself. "Yes, they said 
so. We were defeated !" And then he sat still for 
some time, as if that were too much for him to stand 
up under. 

"I don't know where I am," he said at last, as he 
slowly arose to his feet. "I think I marched right 
through the battle somehow." 


That was precisely what he had done ; and neither 
army had paid him any manner of attention. Now, 
however, he was aware that he must eat something, 
if he was to obey General Lee's orders and hurry on 
to New York. 

" There are some tents over yonder," he said. "I'm 
in blue; I'm not a prisoner. I'm glad, though, that 
my flag is wrapped up inside of the Stars and Stripes, 
so I shan't lose it." 

There were several tents, and one was larger than 
the rest. There was no sentry at the open front of it, 
although there were numbers of Union soldiers coming 
and going. Davis walked up to it and looked in. 

"Hospital!" he remarked, as he took another step 
forward ; and at that moment he heard a hearty voice 
near him saying : 

"All right. Captain Redding! You are not going 
to lose your leg. The sabre-cut on your arm is a 
mere nothing." 

"Captain Redding?" exclaimed Dave. "That must 
be Barry's father! Won't Mrs. Redding and Barry 
be glad to hear from him? I'll speak to him, and 
then I'll have something to tell them when I get 

"Hullo!" said the cheerful surgeon turning around ; 
"do you know the captain's people? Yes? You can 
tell them the captain will come out all right. He'll 


be a major, too, or a colonel. You may speak to him 
for a moment." 

A very faint voice from the camp-cot beside which 
the surgeon was standing seemed to be trying to speak 
louder, and Dave went quickly forward and bent 
down over the wounded man, whispering : 

"Don't try to talk, if it hurts! I'm Mrs. Ean- 
dolph's son. We live at your house. I was there 
only a few days ago. Both of them are well. I'll 
tell them." 

" Say I shall come home on furlough as soon as I 
can move. That's all," replied the captain. "Doc- 
tor, give him that letter for my wife, please ; and see 
that he is taken care of." 

"No, I can't," said the surgeon. "He will have to 
take care of himself. He isn't wounded. Get right 
along, my boy! Orderly! send him to one of the 
messes for any rations they can give him. Then, 
my boy," he said to Dave again, "you get off to New 
York! This isn't a place for youngsters like you. 
March! There's the captain's letter. I've put the 
other inside and sealed it up." 

Dave hastily thanked him, and sent a good-by at 

Captain Eedding ; but there was no response, for the 

hurt leg and the sabre- cut together really did amount 

to something. 

"I guess Barry Eedding would find out what war 


is if he were here," said Dave, as he followed the 
soldier in charge of him, "He wouldn't need to ask 
any more questions if he had seen this battle. I think 
I shall get through to New York. Our side isn't 
beaten very badly, anyhow." 

All around Gettysburg it was the day after the 
battle. Both armies were exhausted and sullen ; for 
their losses during the three days of combat, while 
nearly equal, had been enormous. 

All around New York, and in all the other cities 
and villages of the North, it was the Fourth of July 
after these two great victories — one in the East and 
one in the West. 

The wooden mortars at Vicksburg were at last 
silent. They would never be called upon to roar 
again ; for the Mississippi River was at last set free, 
from its source to its mouth. 

The South tried hard, as Dave did, to believe that 
it had not been very badly defeated; but its best 
generals and its wisest men told each other that the 
end of the civil war could not now be far away. 
Many of them felt as Barry Eedding did when he said 
to Kid : 

"I don't see what they want of any more war. 
Why can't they stop?" 

'"Cause they can't," said Kid. "If they did, the 
papers 'd stop printin' extrys." 


"I wish they would, then," remarked the Shiner. 
"I got stuck with second edish'ns yesterday. 
Couldn't get rid of 'em 'fore the third an' fourth was 


" I didn't," said Kid. " I just kept on hootin' till I 
sold 'em all; but I can't hoot wuth a cent to-day." 

Barry heard guns enough that day. They were 
fired in honor of the Fourth of July and of the vic- 
tories, and then nobody knew what the rest were fired 
for ; and it was a great day for crackers and double- 
headers and Chinese bombs. 

There was only one thing that seemed to put a 
damper on the patriotism and enthusiasm of the city. 
It was not the dreadful losses in the battle. Men 
spoke of them, indeed, and there was mourning in 
many houses and bitter anxiety in many more ; but 
there was ever}^'here a rumbling undertone of mur- 
muring about the draft. It was said to be all the 
more sure to come, so that the war could be finished 
quickly now General Lee had been defeated ; and all 
the able-bodied men in the city knew that their names 
were on the lists and would be put into the draft lot- 

"It's rough!" remarked Kid to Barry and the 
Shiner. "How would you like to have to wait a 
whole week to know whether or not you was took for 
a volunteer?" 


"Worst kind!" said the Shiner; "and loads of 'em 
are gettin' killed, now they're gettin' up these big 
battles. They can't run away, though. Any man 
that's drafted has just got to volunteer." 

Barry, too, was thinking of the whole week before 
the draft, but he had yet another heavy weight upon 
his mind. He knew now, and his mother knew, that 
his father's regiment had been in the hottest of the 
battle on the third day. It had distinguished itself in 
the hand-to-hand struggle with the foremost men of 
General Pickett's grand charge. It had, of course, 
lost many men and many officers, but the lists of the 
killed and wounded had not yet been sent on. Of 
course they could not be made out so soon. It would 
be days before there could be a complete muster-roll of 
any considerable part of the Army of the Potomac. 

"Mother won't tell me what she thinks, "said Barry 
to himself; "but I'm almost sure I heard her say, 'If 
he's alive he'd send me a telegram to let me know it. ' " 
And Barry added, with an icy shiver running all over 
him, "Does that mean that father was killed in that 
fight on the hill?" 

"Barry!" shouted Kid a moment later, "where're 
you goin'? There'll be more extrys out 'fore long. 
It's only four 'clock!" 

"Going home," said Barry, wearily. "I've had 
enough Fourth o' July." 


"So have I," said Kid, in almost a tone of sympa- 
thy; "but as long's there's more 'dish'ns comin' I'll 
stick here and sell 'em." 

So said the Shiner, as if they had been news-soldiers, 
put there as sentries, determined not to desert their 

The next day was Sunday, and it seemed a re- 
markably solemn and quiet one everywhere. A long 
and trying suspense was in great part over, and people 
felt a kind of slow reaction that told them how excited 
they had been. 

In Mrs. Bedding's boarding-house there was some- 
thing more at work. 

"Barry, "said Lilian after breakfast, "are we going 
to church to-day?" 

"There!" exclaimed Barry; "that's the first time 
you've spoken to me for more'n a week. Yes, I guess 
we are." 

"Why, no, it isn't," she said. "I have spoken to 
you before; I'm sure I have — again and again!" 

"Well, I wasn't there, then," said Barry. "What 
makes your eyes so red? I don't believe they'd have 
let a boy like Dave " 

"Why, Barry!" exclaimed Lilian; "didn't I tell 
you? We read it in the paper you brought up last 
night. The first Southern brigade to reach the crest 
of the hill, among your batteries, was my Uncle 


John's brigade. It was all but destroyed. We're 
afraid Dave was with him;" and Lilian cried again. 

"My father was there, too," groaned Barry. 

There was something he thought he had never 
heard before in the tone with which Mrs. Redding 
interrupted him to say : 

"Lilian, dear, is your mother in her room? I'm 
coming right up." 

" I don't believe it !" again exclaimed Barry. " Dave 
wasn't there. I'll go to church. Come, Lilian — do 
come! Best thing we could do! Let's get out of 

It seemed to Barry as if he understood more about 
a battle the moment he thought of Dave and not of a 
whole regiment of men in uniform. It made it real; 
and when he thought of a boy he knew — a boy of his 
own age and size — being shot, or sabred, or bayoneted 
in such a fight as the papers told of, something like a 
picture of it flashed through his mind. Of course it 
excited him, and it was a good thing that he had 
somebody to sympathize with. 

"Ill come as soon as I can get ready," said Lilian. 
"I do hope your father isn't hurt, nor my Uncle 
John — nor ' ' 

"Dave wasn't there!" persisted Barry. "You've 
just as good a nght to believe he wasn't, as to believe 
he was. Besides, I'm sure he wasn't." 


That was precisely the doctrine his mother was 
trying to preach to Mrs. Randolph, and she was partly 

"You do me ever so much good, anyhow," said Mrs. 
Randolph. "Are Lilian and Barry going to church? 
I'm glad of it. It's hard enough for both of them." 

"It is, indeed!" said Mrs. Redding. 

"Just think of it!" continued her friend, very 
thoughtfully. "Mrs. Redding, what have they, and 
you and I, to do with this dreadful business?" 

When Sunday had gone by, and Monday also, and 
the business hours arrived of Tuesday, the Yth, there 
was a remarkable scene — almost unseen — in the par- 
lor-office of a downtown banking-house. 

"What is it, Mr. Simpson?" 

"That — ah — that — young fellow Randolph " 

"Show him in." 

There stood the banker — pale, trembling in every 
limb, as if under almost overpowering nervous agita- 
tion; for Davis did not look at all like a bearer of 
good tidings. To be sure, his neat blue suit was 
brushed clean of dust, and there was no fault to be 
found with his appearance generally or his manners. 
In one hand he carried, all rolled up, what seemed to 
be two American flags, on staffs of different styles. 
The wrapper-flag, at least, had a look of service. 

Mr. Vernon stared at it and at Dave, but seemed to 


be waiting anxiously for something more. Dave's 
face grew more and more mournful, as he jDut down 
the flags and took out his pocket-book. Out of that he 
drew a Confederate ten-dollar bill, and, as General Lee 
had bidden him, he slowly tore it across the middle, 
both wa3's, and silently handed all but one of the 
pieces to Mr. Vernon, one by one. 

" 'The battle is lost, ' " said the banker, as if reading 
a message. " 'I shall retreat across the Potomac. No 
rising of our people in New York. ' No, no, my boy ! 
he didn't say that?" for Dave had crumpled up the 
last quarter of the bill and had thrown it on the floor. 

"It's just what General Lee did," he said. " I have 
followed him exactly." 

" The last hope of the Confederacy has been thrown 
away!" exclaimed Mr. Vernon. "Have you seen 
your mother? No — of course not. Go see her, then. 
Come in from day to day and see me. I feel all broken 
down. There was more in your message than you 

Dave hardly knew that he had himself been crying, 
but he did not show any tears to Mr. Simpson when 
he now hurried through the outer office. Nobody 
there, nor anybody else whom he met after getting 
out into the street, seemed to have the least idea that 
he was a messenger from the great battle-field — a 
bearer of dispatches from the Confederate commander- 


Dave delivers Ge7ieral Lee's message to Mr. Vernon. 


in -chief. He was nothing but a boy. Somebody had 
sent him uptown with some old flag or other. 

But among them all the flags in New York that day 
were none like those which Dave was carrying so care- 
fully. He took them into a street-car near the City 
Hall, and he did not hear a voice that said : 

"I saw him! That's Dave! Kid! you and the 
Shiner sell the rest of my papers ! I'm going home. 
1 can catch the next car but one." 

"What is it, Barry?" asked Kid eagerly. "Isn't 
it the same feller?" 

"I can't stop to talk," said Barry, as he handed 
them quite a supply of the latest "extra" newspapers. 
"I'll know more after I've seen him." 

" Guess he wasn't in the battle," said the Shiner; 
but Barry was gone on a run. 

He did not catch the next car, nor the next, how- 
ever ; and the one he did catch seemed to him the 
slowest, longest-stopping, hottest, meanest street-car 
he had ever travelled in. It could not even jump the 
rails and catch up with the third car ahead and bring 
him home at the same time with Dave. Of course 
Barry ran after leaving the car; but then Dave him- 
self made very good speed — three cars earlier — at that 
same place. There was no overtaking. There was a 
sharp ring at Mrs. Eedding'sdoor; and when it opened 
there was a loud : 


"Bress yer soul, honey! dey's a-comiiiM Bress de 
Lord, you's not hurt! Eeckon dey'll all bress him!" 
Diana Lee's pious thankfulness was genuine, hut it 
was loud. The next outburst was utterly silent. 
Even Lilian could not say a word that anybody else 
could understand. It was one moment only of weep- 
ing, hugging, laughing; and then: 
"You were in the battle, Dave?" 
"Yes, Lilian," said Dave, "all through it." 

" We know how it went. Your Uncle John " 

"Mother!" exclaimed Dave, "that's what I was 
afraid you would ask me. I haven't seen him since 
the third day of the battle. I came up here under 
orders. That letter is to you." He rapidly told how 
he had received the first of his letters. He had even 
handed his roll of flags to Lilian, and was explaining 
the meaning of it all. 

" A flag of honor from General Lee!" she shouted. 

"Why, it's worth a million dollars! The other flag?" 

" Lilian, " said Dave, "that's sacred too. See the 

red spots on the white? That's from the battle-field. 

I'll tell you " 

"May I have it?" asked the voice of some one 
behind him. "Hurrah, Dave! I saw you get on the 
car. Ain't I glad you got back safe! Thank you!" 
for Dave handed him the Stars and Stripes ; but before 
any more could be said by Barry it was Dave's turn : 


"Mrs. Redding, I saw the captain! I've a letter. 
He's wounded just enough to send him home pretty 
soon on furlough." 

She had already been trying very hard to ask for 
news, and now that such an answer had been given 
without asking, all she could do was to tear open the 

"Written the day the battle began," she said, " be- 
fore his brigade went in. What's this?" and she read 
aloud. "'The inclosed letter — Confederate general — 
died lying by me, on the crest of Round-top — third 
day.' Why, Mrs. Randolph!" continued Mrs. Red- 
ding, "my husband must have written that on the 
outside of your letter and inclosed it in mine! Take 
it. It's all spotted with blood I" she said with a 

Mrs. Randolph took it and opened it, and seemed to 
begin reading it in silence, but she came to something 
that made her read aloud : 

" ' I shall send this only in case of my approaching 

death. If you receive it, therefore ' " she paused, 

and it was Davis who exclaimed : 

"I thought so! Uncle John is dead! I saw his 
brigade go into the fire; and they seemed to melt 

"Come, children!" said his mother; "come with 
me!" And very quietly they left the room. 


"0 Barry!" said Mrs. Eedding, "I am so thank- 
ful — so thankful about your father ! We ought to be 
glad, too, that Davis wasn't hurt. Their poor uncle! 
I'm so sorry for them and for him!" 

"Isn't Dave a great fellow, though?" said Barry. 
"Just think! he saw the whole battle! Wasn't it 
strange, too, that he saw father and talked with 
him? It's better than any telegram — better 'n even a 



'T about the end of any long, dark piece of 
bad and stormy weather there is apt to 
come a sudden gust and a fierce dash of 
rain. It is the " clearing-up shower;" and 
after it is over there is generally a prospect 
for blue skies and sunshine. 
The return of Davis Randolph was marked by a day 
of household weather that was both gusty and rainy. 
He was glad to be there, but he had not by any means 
recovered good spirits. Still, it was a kind of relief 
to sit and talk about the battle and tell the wonderful 
story of all that he had seen or heard or knew. He 
could explain some things that were in the news- 
papers; and it soon became clear how Captain Red- 
ding and General Randolph met as they did. They 
listened almost breathlessly while he described the 
battle-field, the village of Gettysburg, the larger and 
smaller hills and ridges, and the valleys and woods, 
streams and roads over and among which the two 
great hosts of brave men had contended for the fate 



of a nation. He grew excited as he went on ; and so 
did they. The two flags he had brought with him 
were a stirring story themselves ; and LiHan brought 
them out while he told about them. Just as Davis 
was relating his last interview with General Lee, after 
the failure of Pickett's grand charge, Barry seemed 
to wake up suddenly, as if he had been dreaming 
about the battle. 

"Why, Dave!" he exclaimed, "what message could 
General Lee have to send to New York? He isn't 
coming here?" 

Dave had very nearly said too much already ; and 
he replied : 

" Well, I did not know what it was exactly, except 
that I was to carry it. It wasn't anything that could 
injure your side." 

"Nothing he could say to anybody here could hurt 
us," said Barry. "I'm glad you got away, anyhow. 
Wish I'd been where you have!" 

"Dave is quite a hero," remarked Mrs. Redding. 
"I am very, very sorry about your Uncle John." 

"I'm real sorry about Captain Redding's leg, too," 
said Dave. " It's pretty hard for him, but the sur- 
geon said positively that he would get well right 

"I suppose it is almost wicked of me," said Mrs. 
Redding; "but I'm glad my husband is wounded — 


a little — so it will send him home and keep him 

"That's just the way I feel," said Barry, with 

"It does seem to be the best thing for him, and for 
you too, "said Mrs. Eandolph. "He won't be there if 
they're going to fight again." 

So far as that household was concerned, perhaps 
Dave's return was something like a clearing-up 
shower ; but the general political weather of the city, 
if it had improved at all, had "cleared up cloudy." 

It was true that army matters looked promising. 
The victories in both the East and West were glorious, 
and they had stirred up all the patriotism and all the 
hope there was in the countr}^ ; but the army under 
General Lee fell back slowly and stubbornly after 
Gettysburg. It was only too evident that the war 
was by no means over. Therefore, it was speedily 
understood that the draft would be enforced without 
mercy, and that the government would take all the 
men it wanted, without reference to anything but the 
filling up of the army. That is, the citizens of a free 
republic were to be treated, in order to save the life 
of that republic, just as if they had been so many 
Germans, or Frenchmen, or Eussians, or citizens of 
the Southern Confederacy; for all of those people 
were already accustomed at home to a more severe 


conscription, or draft, than our own government pro- 

It was a great weight pressing down upon every- 
body all over the country. Nowhere else was its 
pressure more severely felt than in the city itself, 
from which the war office at Washington asked for 
over twenty-five thousand men. Tliere were two 
hundred thousand on the city draft lists, but so many 
of these were unfit for soldiers that about every fifth 
man fit for duty would have to go. Mr. Palovski and 
his friends made it look much worse; for they said 
that all men rich enough to pay three hundred dollars, 
or to hire a substitute, would be let off, with all the 
doctors and ministers, and a great many other exempt 
men ; so that the load would be borne by poor fellows 
like himself, who were not in favor of the Lincoln 
government at all. 

Barry heard him, and so did Dave, several times 
during that heavy, gloomy week before the draft ; but 
they heard another way of looking at it, too. They 
heard a returned volunteer say to Palovski : 

" Five hundred men in my regiment died for their 
country, first and last. Every man gave his life — 
gave it — do you understand ? — gave it ! Fellows like 
you are not willing to give a drop of your blood or a 
cent of your money. You know you can have your 
exemption money paid for you. What you want is 


to have other men die in your place, or pay in your 
place, and let you out. You are not fit to have a 
country — not this country!" 

"We are opposed to the goffernment, " replied 
Palovski. "We are opposed to the war. It is not 
our war," 

"Then you ought all to be shot, anyhow, " responded 
the veteran. " No man has any business in America 
that is an enemy of America. I wish you could all 
be drafted and stationed out where Stuart's cavalry 
were just going to charge, or in front of one of Long- 
street's batteries." 

He shook his fist and walked away, but the boys 
felt better. 

"Fellows like Palovski can make anything sound 
right," said Dave; "but if any man down South talked 
against our government as he does against yours we'd 
shut him up. He's a traitor, and ought to be shot." 

"Well," said Barry, "it's rough to hear him go on; 
but there isn't any war here in the city. We couldn't 
shoot him." 

"We would, "said Dave. "Besides, isn't there war 
here? Didn't Palovski say there was going to be?" 

"They won't dare to really do anything," said 
Barry; "but I tell you what! I won't sell papers to- 
morrow morning. Ifs the first day of the draft. 

Let's go and see it done!" 


Dave was ready enough ; for that was Friday even- 
ing, and all the papers had been full of accounts of 
the preparations made for what Palovski called " the 
blood lottery," when he grew very fierce. 

"How I wish I could go and see how it's done!" 
remarked Lilian, thoughtfully. "It seems dreadful 
to have any mere chance about it!" 

"But they've got to go," said Dave, "How will 
the losses at Gettysburg and all the other battles be 
made up, if President Lincoln doesn't enforce the 
Draft Act?" 

"Why, Dave," said Barry, "that sounds as if you 
were on our side!" 

"No, I'm not!" exclaimed Davis; "but then war is 
war, and if they won't go they've got to be made 
to go." 

"That's so," said Barry. "Somebody's got to take 
my father's place for a while." 

Saturday morning came. It was just one week 
since Vicksburg surrendered. Just one week since 
the army under General Lee recoiled from before the 
Federal batteries at Gettysburg. Not one of the reg- 
iments of city militia which had gone into that cam- 
paign had yet returned. All the morning newspapers 
had something to say about the draft, of course ; but 
they all said that everything was and would be peace- 
ful. So said the city authorities. 


When Barry and Davis went over to Third Avenue, 
to the draft-office where the first drawing of men was 
to be done, it seemed to them that the appearance 
of things there was as peaceful as could have been 
expected. Up and down the avenue, and in the cross- 
streets near the office-buildings, there were, of course, 
crowds of men and some women. They were, for 
the greater part, poorly dressed, and they wore anx- 
ious faces ; but they did not seem to be at all excited. 

"Come on, Dave," said Barry. "We must manage 
to get a look at the draft lottery-wheel. I want to 
see how it's done." 

" So do I," replied Dave. " Go ahead." 

There were policemen on duty, but no one prevented 
them from going into the draft-office. There it was 
almost too quiet, considering how important was the 
work the very business-like officials were doing. The 
fact was that everybody in that room was listening so 
closely to know what names were drawn that people 
almost went about on tiptoe. 

"How many are drawn now, Tom?" asked a low, 
harsh whisper ; but the boys heard it. 

"Only about three hundred," replied much such 
another whisper. "Let them finish the day. The 
men don't feel it yet. Not enough. They won't 
until after they're drawn." 

"Och hone! Pat Ryan, you're dhrafted! An' 


what'll I do wid six children?" broke the silence dole- 
fully at that moment, as Pat's name was called out 
at the wheel. 

"Kathleen," came back as dolefully, "it's meself 
don't know. I'm just the mon for a volunteer, 
though, and I've no three hundred to buy off wid." 

" Oh, the children !" cried Mrs. Ryan, as she and Pat 
moved slowly toward the door. 

"Howld still, till I know me luck," replied a stal- 
wart young fellow close by them. "If I'm not 
drawn, I'll go in Pat's place." 

" All the saints bless the thrue, brave heart of ye, 
Dinnis Mulligan," began Mrs. Ryan, in a voice that 
was rich with gratitude, but at that very moment 
the remorseless guardian of the draft lottery-wheel 
called out "Dennis Mulligan!" 

A sort of suppressed growl of dissatisfaction, if not 
of anger, seemed to roll around the crowd, which 
nearly filled the office. 

"0 Dennis!" exclaimed Mrs. Ryan. "You're 
dhrawn! Now what'll ye do? And what'll your 
mother do? Pat'll make a mighty good volunteer, 
though, and so will yersilf." 

"'Dade, an' we'll do our duty," said Pat. "It's 
not for the likes of us to show the white feather. 
Come along, Kathleen. Mebbe I can get out of it yet, 
but I'm no deserter." 


" All right, boys," said a heavy, well-dressed man near 
the wheel, " I'll see that Pat's exemption is paid for 
him if Dennis goes." 

The growl changed its tone somewhat, but a dozen 
expressions of it were only good-will toward the big 
man — not toward the draft. 

"Barry," whispered Dave, "come along. We've 
seen it all. Those two will make good soldiers, 

"And so that's all there is of the draft," remarked 
Barry, when they were outside again. "Well, it's 
quiet enough. I don't believe there'll be any fuss." 

"Maybe it will stay quiet and maybe it won't," 
said Dave, looking at the discontented faces of the 
crowd. "Some of those fellows look awful ugly." 

Barry rode downtown, thinking a great deal about 
the draft. It seemed right, but it seemed pretty 
hard. Dave rode homeward after leaving Barry, and 
he, too, was thinking; for, as he got out of his street- 
car, he remarked : 

"I guess there won't be any rising. If there is, 
General Lee hasn't anything to do with it. None of 
our friends here will have anything to do with it." 

That might be true of such clear-headed friends of 
the South as was Mr. Mapleson, but a professed friend 
w^as even then doing an imprudent kind of thing. A 
man with a wolfish-looking face was pointing at the 


house in which Mrs. Redding lived, and was saying 
to another man who walked at his side : 

"Hunker, didn't you tell me there were colored 
people in that house of yours, and a lot of aboli- 

"Worst kind!" rej)lied Mr. Hunker. "I've tried 
to get 'em aout " 

"That's the place," said his companion. "One big 
black woman, our fellows say, and one black boy. 
Are there any more?" 

"I don't know," replied Mr. Hunker. "I don't 
care, neither. I was going to have them put aout 
if — well, you know haow. You see, I let it to that 
Redding woman too low " 

The only reply was an exclamation that sounded 
almost like a bark, for they were about to separate on 
the corner. 

Mr. Hunker went one way grumbling: 

"I daon't see haow I'm to do it, the way things is 
turning. It's throwin' away money to let her keep 
that haouse." 

The other man went his own way, but he was 
grumbling more savagely : 

"Landlord? Owns that house and a lot of other 
houses? Every landlord in the city ought to be hung 
to a lamp-post. Every nigger, too. We'll get things 


level after a while," and his teeth came together as if 
he were snapping at something. 

Again Mr. Hunker, on the other street, remarked 
with an injured air: 

"Abaout the first time I was ever turned aout of a 
haouse that belonged to me. I'll get even with Mrs. 
Redding yet. I daon't care nothin' much 'baout 
black fellows. 'Tisn't my business if Captain Red- 
ding got waounded. He hadn't ort to ha' been there. 
No, I daon't reckon they'd have the impidence to draft 
me. I daon't belong to the lower classes, nohaow." 

That was not the only remark he made as he 
walked along to indicate his notions that a part of 
the human race was fit to be drafted, to be made sol- 
diers of, or to be worked up in any way, like wood or 
stone, while another and higher part of the race, 
owning houses and money, like himself, for instance, 
was much too precious to be wasted in any such 

One difficulty about that Saturday was that it was 
so intensely excited that it seemed positively dull. 
Even the boys did not seem to care to talk, but after 
Barry got home at night, he said : 

" Mother, Kid and I and the Shiner made about the 
poorest day yet. Nobody seems to care what the 
news is." 


"I don't either," said Mrs. Redding; "but I've an- 
other telegram from your father. He will be out of 
bed in two weeks." 

"Hurrah!" shouted Barry, but his mother's face 
still wore an anxious look. 

" Oh, dear !" she said. " If he only hadn't to go back ! 
He will come home and get well, but he's to be pro- 
moted lieutenant-colonel, or colonel, or something, 
and as soon as he gets well he'll think it's his duty. 
I wish he would come home for good." 

"Isn't that splendid!" exclaimed Lilian, thinking 
only of the promotion, and Barry felt that his sympa- 
thies, including his pride as a young soldier, were 
with her rather than with his mother. He did not 
say so, and his next remark was : 

" Mother, if there is going to be any trouble about 
the draft, I'm glad we bought those pistols." 

"To-morrow will be Sunday, anyhow," she said, 
and they were all glad that it was Saturday evening, 
with one draft-day ended. 

Hardly any of the sober-minded, church-going peo- 
ple of New York knew how much was done about 
the draft on Sunday, the twelfth of July, for almost 
all of it was secret work, behind closed doors. Dark- 
ness came on slowly after the late mid-summer sunset, 
and as it came the alarm-bells rang for a fire. The 
signal was promptly responded to by fire companies. 


with their engines and their hose and hook-and-ladder 
carts. They gathered with a great rattle to put out 
the fire ; but so did throngs of men and boys, who 
seemed to have come only to make disturbances. 

About thirty minutes after the first, a second alarm 
sounded, and people said: "Fires are apt to be fre- 
quent in such hot weather as this is." But windows 
were thrown up hurriedly and faces looked out anx- 
iously. It was '"Fire! Fire! Fire!" again and 

Nobody doubted but what the fire companies would 
do their duty as usual. So they did ; but there was 
yet another and another fire that night, and all were 
pretty large blazes. Barry and Dave went out to 
look at them, and came home talking about the crowds 
of remarkably ugly-looking fellows they had seen. 
Other observers reported the same thing, and respect- 
able people generally w^ent to bed that night full of 
feverish apprehensions about the next day and the 

The dawn of Monday found several smoking heaps 
of ashes and ruins, but among the people themselves 
it might have discovered signs of quite another kind 
of fire that seemed about ready to kindle. 

There were to be a number of draft lotteries in 
offices in the several districts of the city. All were 
expected to begin work at the same hour, and around 


each of them a crowd collected, long before the time 

'"Hullo, Palovski!" said Barry as they met in front 
of the barber-shop. "Did you have any luck on 

"I was draft!" shouted Palovski furiously. "But 
I will not go ! The time for the people to strike the 
goffernment is come! You will see!" 

"Come on, Barry," exclaimed Dave. "Let's go to 
the Third Avenue draft-office. He and his friends are 
going to do something." 

"Come on!" said Barry, and their excitement grew 
fast as they ran toward the office they had looked 
into on Saturday. When they drew near it, they 
saw at once that there was a changed state of things. 
The crowd was much larger, denser ; there were few 
women to be seen, while the draft-office seemed to be 
filled with stalwart policemen. 

"I heard somebody say there were sixty of them," 
said Barry. "That's enough, I guess." 

"Only sixty?" exclaimed Dave. "All cooped uj) in 
there? Get back, Barry! Back! Out of the way! 
See! There's a charge coming!" 

A charge? It was very much like a storming-party 
pouring into a captured fort. It was led by deter- 
mined men, and just behind them were the well- 
trained, strong-armed members of a "volunteer fire 


company " of the roughest kind. Behind them surged 
all the hundreds of angry fellows who had gathered 
in the avenue. 

Barry and Dave had escaped being caught in that 
rush of shouting, yelling, desperate rioters. From 
where they stood they could not see into the draft - 
office, but they saw the " storming-party" crush their 
way in, and knevv^ that the sixty policemen had been 
swept like chaff by force of numbers. 

"Barry !" suddenly exclaimed Dave. "Look down 
the avenue! Bayonets!'' 

"Invalid Corps," said Barry. "The papers said 
they would be here. What? DaA^e! The mob is 
stoning them!" 

The Invalid Corps did not exactly deserve its name, 
and yet it did. A soldier of the old-time volunteers 
who had lost one eye in battle might see well enough 
with the other. If he had lost his left arm, his right 
might still be strong. He might be unfitted for severe 
marches and field service, and yet be very well able 
to mount guard in one of the forts of the North, or 
at a hospital, or a prison-camp. Besides, there was 
a kind of justice in letting him serve out his term of 
enlistment, drawing his regular pay and rations in- 
stead of a pension. It supported him while it per- 
mitted vigorous men to go to the armies in the field 
while the Invalid Corps did the "guard duty." 


So, no fighting being expected, a regiment of about 
five hundred of these brave fellows, camped upon 
Governor's Island, had been ordered over to the city 
to serve in small detachments as a sort of parade - 
guard at the several places where the draft was to go 
on. They could, indeed, have been of real service if 
posted inside of a building ; but they had no idea of 
being attacked in the open street while on their 

Soldiers they were, however; and in the eyes of the 
excited mob, they personally represented the war, the 
government, and the draft itself. The detachment 
sent to duty at the Third Avenue office consisted of 
one company only, and it had nearly reached its des- 
tination when it suddenly found its farther advance 
blocked by a yelling throng that quickly surged all 
around it and hemmed it in. 

It was at this moment that the first attention of 
Dave and Barry was attracted. 

"Hear that volley?" exclaimed Dave. 

The brave fellows had indeed fired, not into the 
mob, but over their heads; and the next shower of 
stones that poured upon them was accompanied by 
shouts of derision, for the firing without hitting any- 
body had been a mistaken mercy. 

"There's hardly anything of them," replied Barry. 
"They're going down! The mob has got them!" 


"Too bad!" almost yelled Dave. "They'll all be 
murdered! See that one? What a shame!" 

Swept, scattered, knocked down, and now unarmed, 
the helpless soldier-boys were pursued pitilessly in all 
directions ; but the one whom Dave pointed out was 
faring horribly. He had run well, and had climbed 
a ledge of rocks that were being blasted away to make 
room for new buildings. He was overtaken on the 
summit, and even the mob held its breath for a 

"They've thrown him over!" gasped Dave. 
That was not all, for as he lay, dead or living, at 
the foot of the ledge, he was buried almost out of 
sight by the stones which followed him. 

"Some of those fellows are looking at us, Dave," 
said Barry. "Let's run! They'll be pounding us 

"We're both in blue," said Dave. "We'd be safer 
if we were ragged." 

"Cut it!" exclaimed Barry; and off they ran, each 
hardly noticing how pale and horrified the other looked. 
Behind them, on the avenue, there was a kind of 
confused storm. It seemed to be composed of yells, 
shrieks, groans, the crash of glass and of window - 
sashes, the rattle of pistol-shots, and the loud tones 
of somebody or other in a sort of command. In fact, 
the air in all directions seemed to be full of evil sounds 


as the two boys made their escape up the cross-street. 
Of course, they could not help pausing to look back. 

"Smoke!" exclaimed Davis. "I declare! Have 
those fellows set the draft-office on fire?" 

"Yes, they have," said Barry. "I heard them say 
they were going to. They said they'd burn the whole 

"Yes," said Dave, "they said they'd burn every 
block in the city that had a draft-office in it." 

"Look!" exclaimed Barry. "Don't you see? They 
are plundering the houses. Oh! isn't that awful? 
That black boy! Only a boy, and they're stoning 
him to death !" 

"Just as they did that soldier!" groaned Dave. "I 
say, Barry, this isn't war!" 

"Isn't it?" said Barry. " I should say it was. It's 
got here. Let's run again. There they come!" 

"We'd better!" and Dave started, but he added, 
"No it isn't real war. It's a riot. All it wants is 
soldiers to put it down." 

"Invalid Corps men won't do," said Barry as they 
ran. "They've been all used up in battles They 
couldn't any of them run like this, not to save their 

"Your soldiers'll come, though," replied Dave, 
"and there'll be lots of shooting done before this is 



HE buildings of the block where the draft- 
office was had all been residences of people 
of moderate means, none of whom be- 
longed to what Mr. Palovski called the 
" goffernment. " Every house was plundered 
and then set on fire so fast that some of the 
people hardly had time to escape. 

The boys ran well for so hot a day, until they felt 
safe. Then they walked along in silence for a few 
minutes, feeling as if what they had seen could not 
be real, it was so horrible. 

"Don't I wish I could fight!" suddenly exclaimed 
Barry ; but at that moment they both saw something 
which made them spring forward. 

" Stop !" shouted Barry. " Don't you hit him again ! 
Dave, get a club !" 

That was what he himself was doing, for he was 
pulling a side-stick out of a dray that stood by the 
curbstone, and Dave pulled out another. It was a 
wild, reckless thing to do ; but the boys were in the 
hottest kind of excitement. What were two such 



fellows as they against such a knot of tipsy ruffians 
as had knocked down that colored man and were kick- 
ing and heating him? 

Yes, but a hickory cart-stick is a tremendous club 
to swing, and "rap" went Barry's against the head 
of the first ruffian he could reach. He had never 
before struck a man, and he felt a thrill of astonish- 
ment as he saw this one reel and fall. It was more 
than a surprise, too, for it seemed to double his 
strength and his striking power. 

Down went another man before Davis, and Barry's 
next hit was on the elbow of a boy larger than him- 
self, who at once began to rub and howl and run, 
shouting, "P'lice!" 

There were two more, apparently grown men, ])ut 
to the surprise of Dave and Barry they ran at once, 
without waiting to be hit. 

" Cowards !" exclaimed Barry. 

"I'd like to have hit them, too," said Dave, but 
the colored man was getting up and so were the two 
knocked-down rioters. 

"Jump! Eun!" shouted Barry to the colored man. 
"Run to your house. Eun and hide!" 

" Bress de Lord !" responded the poor victim, and 
his legs had not been hurt, for he ran very well. 

"It's our turn to run now," said Dave. "There's 
more coming!" 


"Run it!" said Barry, and they went, but they 
were followed only by a storm of abuse from the two 
ruffians they had clubbed. 

It was just as Barry said. That gang of brutal 
fellows were cowards, and they had been scattered by 
two mere boys, with right on their side. 

The two rescuers were not in any further danger, 
but all over the city gangs of seemingly half-crazy 
men and boys were dashing hither and thither. Most 
of them appeared to have no especial aim or errand, 
but to be on a general hunt after any kind of mischief 
that might turn up. 

It was a strange time. Gusts of wind arose and 

sent clouds of dust along the streets and avenues, as 

if the very air were getting excited. Women came 

to doors and windows and peered out and dodged in 

again, as if in fear of being hit. Gangs of laborers 

everywhere threw down their tools and marched 

away from their jobs, but those were not the men 

who seemed inclined to hurt anybody. If they did 

not quit work of their own accord, the mob forced them 

to do so. Squads of scowling ruffians halted street-cars 

and ordered their conductors to run no more, on pain 

of being beaten to death. Helpless colored people 

were suddenly set upon by merciless foes, who seemed 

to have risen from the earth. Soldiers found their 

uniforms marking them out for violence — that is, if 


there were not too many more of their comrades within 
helping distance. Pohcemen out on patrol duty were 
compelled to fight their way back to the station-houses 
and leave most of the streets unguarded. 

The whole thing was a great surprise, but it did 
not come from the Confederate Government. Gen- 
eral Lee had not ordered any rising in New York nor 
any opposition to the draft. Mr. Mapleson and his 
friends had not done it. The drafted men themselves, 
with a few exceptions, had nothing to do with the riot. 

What, then, had risen? Who was doing all this 
robbery and burning and murder? 

Barry and Dave were just now too excited, and so 
was everybody else, to ask such a question ; but it is 
one of those questions that asks itself, and ought to be 

The great city had two things in it all the while. 
One was and is what is sometimes called society, and 
it is made up of all people who earn an honest living, 
willingly, and try to obey the laws. Down under this 
there is something else which is neither American, 
Irish, German, nor of any sort that can easily be de- 
scribed, except that it was mostly brought here from 
Europe. It crowds our jails all the while, and costs 
us a great deal. In 1SG3 there were over forty 
thousand men within ten miles of the City Hall, each 
of whom had been convicted of crime in this country. 


besides those who may have been in jail before they 
came over, but kept out of it here. All these and 
all others of the same sort were just the men to do 
what was doing. They were not patriots, and they 
were not good material to make soldiers of, but 
through week after week they had been stirred up 
and excited by the draft. They had been secretly 
told of a probable "revolution," as some of them called 
it. So they had been getting ready for mischief, and 
now there was a kind of explosion of all the evil in 
them. If it had not been thus, it would not have 
exploded at all ; but it seemed to kindle and go off 
as if it caught fire from the air. Besides this, it may be 
considered that all great masses of men are liable to 
sudden, wild-fire excitements. So panics will take hold 
of armies, as of the French at Waterloo or Americans 
at Bull Eun ; for the best of timber will burn like the 
worst if it is dry enough and if the fire to burn it is 
kindled under a strong draft. But there was not 
much good timber in the mob that rose in 1863. 

Barry and Dave had obeyed their angry impulse 
bravely enough, but their only idea was to get home. 
They carried their cart-stakes with them, however, 
without telling each other why. It seemed the right 
thing for any fellow out of doors to have a tip top 

Nobody interfered with them on the way, and when 


they reached the house they found some anxious peo- 
ple in the jDarlor, waiting to hear all they had to say 
of where they had been and what they had seen. It 
was a tremendous story to tell, and all the anxiety 
seemed to turn into excitement and exclamations 
while they told it. It took a long time to get as far 
as to the fight on, their way home; but when they 
came to that and the cart-stakes, Mrs. Eedding turned 
very pale and spoke as if she were out of breath : 

"Barry! Tell me! Did he get away?" 

"Yes, he did, mother," said Barry; and he went 
right along with his story while Mrs. Randolph scarcely 
took her eyes from Davis' face. There was a sort of 
fiercely-exulting look of horror and delight in Lilian's 
eyes, and there were a number of suppressed remarks 
made by some women -boarders who had stayed at 

"Then we ran," said Barry at last, and his mother 
exclaimed : 

"I'm so glad you saved him!" 

"The brave fellows " began Mrs. Randolph, 

but Lilian interrupted her: 

" Mother and Dave and Barry are both on the same 
side this time!" 

"We didn't have any time to think," said Barry, 
" but it was kind of awful to knock a man down with 
a club." 


"Dave," said Lilian, "how did you feel?" 

"Didn't feel at all," said Dave. "I was too mad 
about it. Say, Barry, how those two loafers did run !" 

"Diana Lee must keep in-doors," was Mrs. Red- 
ding's next remark, and Mrs. Randolph added: 

"That's what we must all do." But Diana herself 
had been listening, with wide-open eyes and with a 
kind of laugh breaking out every now and then, as 
she twisted her hard, black hands. 

" Reckon I knows 'nough for that, " she said, " Sho ! 
Dem boys! Dey wasn't hurt a mite. Don't I wish 
dey'd killed 'em all? Wish de sojers was heah." 

So everybody else was wishing, except the fast-in- 
creasing mob. This, indeed, was now driving before it 
even large parties of the outnumbered police, and was 
all the while getting crazier. What was worse, too, it 
was getting bolder with a sense of a sort of victory and 
by finding out that it had so much unexpected power. 

One of its first operations was to cut down telegraph 
poles and sever wires, so that one part of the city 
could not find out what was going on in another. 
The people who were shut up in their houses could 
know very little. They could only sit still and guess 
and talk and imagine. Even in later years it has not 
been easy to convince sober folk of the exact truth 
concerning the days and nights of the great battle in 
New York between crime and the law. 


So much uncertainty was a hard thing to bear, and 
it was not a great while before the entire household 
at Mrs. Redding's began to feel thirsty for news. 
It was a fever of doubt and curiosity, and it grew 
hotter as they talked and waited. They could not 
hear anything or see anything from the windows, and 
at last Barry shouted : 

"Come on, Dave! They won't hurt newsboys. 
You and I can rig up as ragged as the Shiner." 

"That's what I'll do!'' said Dave. "But I'll have 
to put some dirt on my face and hands." 

"Oh, boys!" exclaimed Mrs. Randolph, "you won't 
do any such thing!" 

"Well," said Mrs. Redding doubtfully, "I almost 
believe they'd be safe. Just as safe as Davis was 
when he came through our army." 

"It wouldn't do for him to wear charcoal this time, 
though," said Barry; "but Kid or the Shiner could 
go anywhere." 

"So can you and I," said Dave. "We'll really sell 
papers, too. Make some money. Let's hurry. What 

" Oh, how I wish I were a boy !" excitedly exclaimed 
Lilian. "They have all the fun there is! I think 
it's too bad!" but the two mothers talked caution 
all the while they were letting the boys go. 

By the time Barry and Dave were satisfied with 


what they called their new uniforms, Diana was jus- 
tified in saying: 

''Dey looks wuss dan two spring wpodchucks." 

"Eagamuffins!" added Lilian. "They both look as 
if they belonged to the mob !" 

That might be, but the young adventurers dashed 
out of the house in apparently high spirits. 

The mob had its idea about dress beyond a doubt, 
as well as about complexion. 

Mr. Hunker, walking along one of the avenues, 
paused for a moment to see a lot of vicious-looking 
fellows stop an empty street-car and send its driver 
away with the horses. Of course there could be no 
danger to so white or red-faced a man as himself, 
opposed to the draft and to the war, and he loudly 
exclaimed : 

" That's right, boys. Go ahead. I'm on your side. " 

That might be so. Nobody disputed him. Never- 
theless, in a few seconds he was not on any side at all, 
but upon his back, surrounded by fierce faces and 
chattering tongues, not answering him in English, 
however earnestly he professed to be their friend. 

Off came his elegant suit of clothing, hat, boots, 
watch, pin, necktie, seal-ring, and cuff-buttons. He 
was not beaten much, but whatever there had been 
in his pockets was divided among his friends before 
he was left behind to get up and get away. 


A pair of ragged and dirty-looking boys on the side- 
walk saw the whole proceeding, and one of them 
remarked : 

"Keep still, Dave. That's old Hunker. They 
won't kill him. Serve him right. He's down on the 
war and the draft." 

"He's about scared to death," said Dave. "Didn't 
they do it quick, though? But we mustn't let on 
who we are — not even to him !" 

"Come along," replied Barry. "Now all the car- 
lines are choked off, we've got to foot it downtown." 

Poor Mr. Hunker! He had indeed been finished 
quickly, and now he was footing it in his stocking- 
feet, and in a dreadfully astonished state of mind. 

"Who'd ha' thought it?" he mournfully inquired 
aloud. "What's become of all the police? Where 
are all the soldiers gone to? Think of a man like me 
bein' robbed such a way as this! What'd Mapleson 
say if he knaowed hov/ they was goin' on?" 

"He'd say one of his friends had been unwise," 
remarked a steady-toned voice near him. "I saw 
you. What a fool you were to come out with a dia- 
mond pin on!" 

"Is that you, Mr. Mapleson? Why, you look more 
like a hod -carrier " 

"All the hod-carriers are perfectly safe," replied 
the clear-headed politician coolly. " I know all that 


crowd like a book. I came out to see how matters 
looked, though, and I'm going home. You'd better, 
quick as you can." 

"I'm a-goin' to," groaned Mr. Hunker. ''I guess 
the mob has riz." 

"It'll go down again," said Mr. Mapleson. "It 
may burn half the city first, but there won't be so 
much mob left after it's over. Go home. You are in a 
light, comfortable, hot-weather rig. " 

So he was ; but Hunker was too scared to be angry 
at having fun poked at him, and all the way as he 
went he had to submit to it. Even badly-scared peo- 
ple seemed to get into better spirits when they met 

Dave and Barry kept away from crowds all the 
way downtown. They saw more than one which 
was evidently skirmishing with a police force. 

"They don't seem to be shooting," said Barry. 

" 'Tisn't like real war " But just then Dave 

exclaimed : 

"Hark! Hear that away off yonder'? That's a 
rifle volley somewhere. It's soldiers, too! Eegular 
volley " 

"Soldiers firing all together?" said Barry. "Mob 
shooting would be scattering?" 

It was not done by the mob, indeed ; for the first 
volleys in defence of .law and order were fired at a 


mob on the eastern side of the city by a small detach- 
ment of marines from the Navy Yard. 

On went the boys in their daring search for news, 
and they were very much safer after they reached 
City Hall Square and obtained supplies of news- 
papers. It was not so easy to find customers, how- 
ever, for one of their first discoveries was that all 
l)usiness was suspended. Their next was that the first 
efforts of the police, and of the citizens who were now 
rapidly volunteering, were for the protection of the 
lower part of the city. 

"Tell you what," remarked the Shiner, just after 
they met him, "Wall Street's going to be the safest 
place there is." 

"'Cause the money's there," said Barry. "They 
won't let the mob get that. " 

"Guess it won't be safer'n Newspaper Eow," re- 
plied Kid after a long hoot. " What'd folks do with- 
out their extrys?" 

That was, nevertheless, what the city was to be 
compelled to do for the greater part of its area during 
nearly a v/eek. 

"Let's go on down," said Barry. "They haven't 
touched the big gun-stores on Maiden Lane yet. 
They're all shut up. Glad I got my pistols in time." 

Something like scared-to-death business was still 
doing in the money region between Trinity Church 


and the East Eiver Ferry, but the big brick and stone 
buildings that held the banks were beginning to wear 
a shut-up, fort-like look. So did the Stock Exchange. 
The steps of the Sub-Treasury Building were occupied 
by armed men for its defence, and so were those of 
the custom-house, and at the top of these a short, 
wide-mouthed mountain howitzer stared down. 

"It's full of grape," said a man who looked up at 
it. "Wouldn't it sv/eep!" 

"You bet it would!" exclaimed the Shiner. "It's 
got a mouth wider'n Kid's." 

"These buildings'd all be good forts," remarked 
Dave, with something of the air of a veteran soldier 
who knew about war, "except against cannon." 

"Cannons would knock 'em," said Kid, "but this 
muss is goin' to knock spots out o' the news business." 

"Hurrah!" suddenly shouted Dave. "There go the 
Stars and Stripes!" 

"Hurrah!" joined in the other boys, and a chorus 
of cheers rang out all the way up Wall Street, for 
a full company of regular-army soldiers went swing- 
ing by. 

"They're from one of the forts," said Barry, glad 
to know something about the army. " General Brown 
sent them. He's a brick!" 

The excitement was tremendous everywhere. Men 
went hurrying this way, that way. Crowds gathered 


and dispersed. The fire-alarm bells rang out afresh 
every now and then, for there was a fresh conflagra- 
tion kindled during every hour of that day and of its 
following night. Twenty-four fires without counting 
false alarms ! 

The boys got tired of trying to sell news or find it 
in that region, and before long they w^ere eagerly 
exploring the avenues leading uptown. It was all 
more like a terrible dream than a reality, but they 
were in no great danger. That mob had not risen 
against ragged newsboys, unless it should suspect 
them of having money in their pockets. 

Barry and Dave had been a source of constantly 
increasing anxiety to their friends at home, ever since 
they left it. Lilian was at one of the parlor-windows 
every five minutes. Even Diana expressed very freely 
her disapproval of the rash curiosity which had allowed 
them to venture out. 

"Sho!"she said. "De boys! Wat do I care foh 
de mob? Dey might be killed. Glad dey's w'ite. 
Wat was dah mothers thinkin' of? Sho!" 

Their mothers were thinking very repentently. 
Every soul in the house, including men-boarders who 
had given up business and were returning early, 
united in condemning such rashness. There were 
only four of the latter now, for several others had but 
just departed upon their usual summer vacations. 


This had been one cause of the thinness of Mrs. Red- 
ding's cash returns and of Mr, Hunker's hope that 
she would fail to pay her rent. Now, however, there 
were sudden signs of preparations for other excursions, 
and long before supper-time four hand-portmanteaus 
were packed, and Mrs. Redding's upjDer rooms were 

There w^ere whispers, also, among the women, and 
several times the appearance of Diana upstairs or in 
the parlors had been a signal for nods and glances 
that seemed full of foreboding. 

Part of what it meant was caught and answered by 
Mrs. Redding. 

"That's so," she remarked to Mrs. Randolph; "all 
colored people are in danger. I'll do the marketing 
myself. I'll buy all we need, so I won't have to go 
out again right away." 

Lilian and her mother seemed inclined to take a 
curious view of the matter between themselves. 

" Davis says he is certain the Confederate Govern- 
ment has nothing to do with this," said Mrs. Randolph 
in her own room; "but he is only a boy. He may not 

"What? Mother," exclaimed Lilian, "I thought 
of that! But the South hasn't anything to do with 
this. I wish General Lee was here. He'd stop it!" 

She was neither a general nor a statesman, and 


there were many things of war and peace which a 
mere girl could not be expected to understand. The 
best and wisest and bravest men in the city did not 
understand that mob. Even the police and the mili- 
tary officers gave up guessing at its kind and strength, 
and merely went on fighting it. 

Davis and Barry saw them at work in more than 
one place, but were quite willing to look on at a dis- 
tance, for it was just as Dave said : 

" There ought to be ten times as many police, and 
then they'd have a fight of it." 

That was while the squad of newsboys were pouring 
down a street that led into Second Avenue, and they 
could see that the avenue was packed with a yelling, 
shouting throng of rioters. There was a kind of fas- 
cination in it, and the boys went nearer. 

"See!" said Barry. "Now I know what they're 
after. That big corner building's got an armory in 
the upper story. Lots of guns and ammunition." 

"They're after the guns," said the Shiner. "The 
upper floor is packed with 'em like a sardine-box." 

It looked so, for fierce -looking faces were shoeing 
at all its windows and shouting to the crowd in the 

"The lower stories are swarmin', too," said Kid; 
and then he gave a great hoot and added: "There go 
the cops!" 


It was, indeed, a strong force of policemen charging 
up the avenue and driving the furious rioters before 
it, in an effort to prevent them from getting the arms 
which would make them more dangerous, 

"It's hard fighting," said Dave, "but it isn't up to 
the fighting on the hill at Gettysburg. Hullo ! what's 

What was it? A puff of smoke i)ouring through 
a window in the Armory Building? And what did it 

Something horrible ! 

The rioters in the lower stories of that huge build- 
ing had been warned that the police were defeating 
their friends in the street, and that it was time for 
them to get out and get away. Wild with wrath and 
excitement, they set the building on fire in every place 
at once as they swarmed out of it. It had been a 
piano factory, and it contained quantities of light, 
dry wood, shavings, work-benches half-soaked with 
oil, cans of oil, of varnish, of alcohol. The fires which 
were kindled spread almost as if they had been lighted 
in gunpowder. The upper stairways were so many 
flues of roaring flame before any warning could be 
given to the men in the upper story. It seemed only 
a moment before the whole building under them was 
a vast furnace. The dry, pine floor they stood on 
melted and crackled away with terrible rapidity. 


Then there came a tremendous crash, mingled with 
a great, despairing cry, echoed by the throng in the 
street and followed by a full minute of silence, through 
which nothing could be heard but the savage roar of 
the flames. 

"Dave," whispered Barry, "let's go home!" 
" They were all burned alive !" whispered back Dave ; 
and with pale faces and beating hearts the two boys 
hurried away. 



v^AMi^y<^HAT a dreadful time this is!" said Lilian, 
P after supper, as they all sat in the parlor 
^^o talking about it. " It's like a nightmare. 
t^^M I hate to go to bed. " 
.4^ "That's just the way I feel," said Mrs. Ran- 
dolph. "I can't forget about those men in the 
burning armory." 

" Oh ! to think of such things happening right here 
in the city of New York!" exclaimed Mrs. Redding. 

"It almost seems as if it wasn't so at all," slowly 
remarked Lilian. 

All over the city there was a great deal of that kind 

of feeling — a nightmare feeling — but there was no 

such thing possible as waking up and getting rid of 

it. The alarm-bells rang on. The fires burned almost 

unchecked. The firemen tried to work, but were 

driven away by the mob. Stores and houses were 

pillaged. Men and women who ventured on the 

streets were robbed and beaten. Colored people were 

terribly maltreated, and some of them were killed. 
14 201 


Yet all night long the forces of law and order were 
gathering and organizing. Special police were sv/orn 
in. Soldiers and marines and sailors landed from the 
forts and war-ships. Veterans of the army came 
together, and began to "fall in" as volunteers for the 
defence of the city. 

All night long, too, the strange fever of wicked- 
ness spread faster and faster among the ex-convicts 
and the as yet unconvicted criminals. So all the evil 
forces were also, in a manner, enlisting. They were 
not volunteering to oppose the draft, but to attack 
anything and everything that might come in their 
crazy way ; for this was a kind of war in which the 
volunteers on both sides went to their own places 

Tuesday night was very short, but it was seemingly 
one of the longest nights the people of New York had 
ever passed. 

In Mrs. Redding's boarding-house, all who were 
left were ready for breakfast at seven o'clock in the 
morning, and even then Diana remarked : 

"Sho! I was beginnin' to think dey wouldn't ebber 
come downstairs. Dis ain't no time foh folks to lie 

"I hope the boys won't go out again to-day," said 
Lilian. "Don't let them, Mrs. Redding." 

"Indeed, they must not," replied Mrs. Redding; 


and Mrs, Randolph fully agreed with her, but some- 
how or other they did get out after a while. 

They obtained a great deal of news, too, before 
they reached home again. Part of it was in a morn- 
ing paper, and a much larger part was made up of 
what they had seen and heard. 

"Barry!" almost shouted his mother, "you don't 
mean to tell me they burned the colored-orphan 

"Yes, they did," said Barry, "and they burned lots 
of other houses where there were colored people." 

"What a wicked shame!" exclaimed Lilian. 
" What had those poor little black children to do with 
the draft?" 

" Nothing, " said Barry. "I saw a good many of 
those fellows that did it afterward. Looked like 
devils !" 

"What this city wants is soldiers!" said Mrs. Ean- 
dolph vehemently. " I wish the Army of the Potomac 
were here," 

"Or our army," said Lilian. 

"Either of them would stop this," said Mrs. Ran- 
dolph. " Why don't the police fight? What do they 

"Fight!" said Dave. "Why, you never saw better 
fighting. You ought to have seen them fight on 
Broadway yesterday. And over on Second Avenue 


before those men were burned. They just swept 
things. But the mob's too big for them." 

There was a great deal of watching from windows 
that evening when it came, but nearly all of the 
front doors were kept shut and bolted. Besides, 
everybody who shoved a bolt looked at it and wished 
that it had been of a larger size. 

''They won't come here," said Davis to Barry. 
"They can't pick out this house among so many." 

"We'll fight if they come," replied Barry sturdily, 
but at that very moment his mother was saying: 

"What shall we do, Mrs. Randolph? Four of Di- 
ana's friends have come. Colored women; they are 
all hiding with her in the kitchen. Hear that?" 

"Why, they are singing!" said Mrs. Randolph. 
"I suppose she has told them they would be safe 

"Poor things!" said Mrs. Redding. "I don't won- 
der they are half scared to death. I declare, they are 
holding a prayer-meeting!" 

"Well," said Mrs. Randolph, as she listened to the 
very full chorus of the hymn, "I'm glad they came. 
Hark! That's Diana Lee, now, praying," she said, 
and Barry added : 

"Dave, can't you hear Dinah?" 

"Of course I can," said Davis; "but praying people 
get killed sometimes, just like anybody else. " 


"I'll feel better," said Barry, "if she doesn't pray 
too loud, and let the mob know she is here." 

"If that isn't Lilian!" suddenly exclaimed Davis. 
"She is down there with them. Come on!" 

They hardly knew why they went, but in another 
moment they were looking at something that made 
them keep very still, as if for fear they might inter- 
inipt it by being found out. 

There were more colored women in Mrs. Redding 's 
kitchen than she was aware of, and there was one 
man whose face looked all the blacker because his 
hair was white. All that the boys really saw, how- 
ever, before they turned and dodged upstairs again, 
was Lilian Randolph standing between that old black 
man and Diana Lee, and singing with all her might, 
while half the other voices in the room seemed to be 
vociferating " Bress de Lord !" 

"Let's get out!" said Dave in a whisper. 

"Quick!" said Barry. "But didn't she look pretty! 
I'm glad, though, that we've got those pistols. 
They're just the thing." 

Perhaps they were, but Barry was a very young 
soldier and did not know much about war. He and 
Dave reached the parlor- windows again just in time 
to hear a tremendous hoot from an anxious voice on 
the sidewalk. 

"Hullo, Kid!" responded Barry. 


"Is that you?" said Kid, a little huskily. "Well, 
the mob didn't leave splithereens of the Tribune office, 
but 'f you want to sell extrys to-morrow, there'll be 
some out. There's loads o' news." 

"I'm coming down " began Barry, but he was 

interrupted by the voice of the Shiner : 

"Guess you'd better come early in the mornin'. 
They're goin' to mob the City Hall. You wouldn't 
miss seein' that for anything. There's goin' to be 
sojers and a battl'.'' 

"All right," said Barry, but Kid added, as he and 
the Shiner turned away : 

"There's a cannon by the Tribune building, and 
some more by the other places. I sold all the extrys 
I had to the gov 'nor and mayor and some other fellers 
at the City Hall. Some on 'em wouldn't wait for 
change, neither." 

The Shiner and Kid had stuck to their business in 
spite of the mob, and they had made the most that 
was possible out of all the news that was going. 
They were ready to give it up and go home now, 
however, while Davis and Barry were once more ex- 
cited tremendously by the news their friends had 

"We can slip out and scout around," whispered 
Dave. "We needn't be gone a great while." 

"Come on," replied Barry; and in a minute or so 


more they were hurrying through street after street, 
only to find at first that almost nobody else had had 
courage to try such an experiment. 

" Seems as if most people hardly dared light up the 
fronts of their houses," remarked Dave. 

Neither of them knew how desperately the rioters 
had striven to destroy all the gas-works, so that there 
should not be light anywhere upon such deeds as they 
were doing. 

"What's that?" suddenly exclaimed Dave. 

" Kind of procession, " said Barry. "Hullo! Police 
guarding some colored people! Going uptown to 
save their lives. Glad the mob doesn't know what's 
at our house." 

That was what all the women in it were repeating 
continually, but they did not know how hard it some- 
times is to keep a secret that is known by a whole 
neighborhood. Darker and darker seemed the de- 
serted streets, as the two boys pushed on toward the 
eastern edge of the city, for something like a roar of 
a great tumult led them. 

" Crowds?" said Barry in a suppressed, excited voice. 
"Look, Dave! Did you ever see anything like that?" 

"Quick!" said Dave. "Let's get to where we can 
see. There's something coming." They did not give 
a thought to any danger they might be prying into, 
and in a minute or so more they were among a thick 


cluster of men, boys, and women on an old dray at 
the corner of Eighteenth Street and First Avenue. 

Up the avenue all was a dusky pack of shouting- 
men. All the windows of the houses seemed to be 
full of heads, and there were men upon the roofs. 

There was a break in the density of the crowd near 
the corner, for a different kind of force had halted a 
little below. 

"Howitzers!" exclaimed Dave. "Soldiers! Police! 
Not half enough." 

Stones flew through the murky air. There was a 
ceaseless rattle of shots from the street mob and from 
the men on the roofs and at the windows. 

"Dave!" screamed Barry. " The soldiers are going 
down. Oh! There!" 

They were indeed dropping fast, although there 
was not light enough for their enemies to take good 
aim, but Barry's last exclamation had followed upon 
the first rifle-volley the foremost ranks had fired. He 
saw the blue flashes dart from the rifle-muzzles. He 
heard the shrieks and groans that followed, but that, 
and another, and another volley seemed to only enrage 
the crazy multitude. The densely-packed and yelling 
front of it was now pushed steadily forward by the 
unthinking mass behind. The cannon had not yet 
spoken ; but just then one man sprang out in front of 
the mob, and an almost unearthly voice screeched and 


howled in an unknown tongue, while the frantic 
shouter brandished a flag as red as blood. 

"Palovski, the barber!" shouted Barry. "There he 
is, Dave, with the red flag." 

There arose a flerce growl from several persons on 
and around the dray, and it seemed to be directed at 
Barry, but at that moment all other sounds were 
drowned in the thunderous roar of the cannon. 

"Horrible!" exclaimed Dave; and a sort of shriek- 
ing cry sprang from the lips of all who saw or heard. 

A storm of grape-shot tore its deadly way through 
the surging throng Palovski had been urging on to 
destroy the soldiers. The pavement was strewn with 
heaps and rows of lifeless or still struggling forms. 

Again and again the howitzers sent out their mes- 
sengers of death, while the rattle of shots from the 
houses doubled and trebled. It was all in vain. The 
brave men behind the guns were going down too fast 
and were too few. It was impossible for them to hold 
their ground. 

"Look!" said Dave, "they've got to retreat! The 
mob has beaten them after all. Tell you what, 
Barry, that street looks like some places I saw around 
Gettysburg after the battle." 

"Run!" hoarsely whispered Barry. "Didn't you 
hear what those fellows said about us? Quick!" 

It had been a hard fight, but the mob had now 


succeeded in not only defeating policemen, but in- 
fantry and artillery also. They had received a 
dreadful lesson as to the destructive pov^^er of guns 
throwing grape-shot, but they had not been at all 
weakened or depressed by it. As Dave and Barry 
said, there was no telling what the rioters might do 

"Dave," said Barry after they had run to a safe 
distance, "what do you suppose became of Palovski?" 

"He didn't believe they'd dare to fire," said Dave. 
"He wasn't more'n a dozen feet from the mouth of 
one of those howitzers, in a bee-line." 

"Tore him all to pieces!" exclaimed Barry, with a 
shudder. "It was just such fellows as he that set 
'em a-going." 

The avenue where the fight had been was now very 
dark— too dark for anybody to see the dead men in 
uniform that marked the spot where one of the hovf- 
itzers stood when it was fired. The gun itself had 
been dragged away, but its terrible work was proved 
by a ghastly heap a few yards farther along the 
bloody pavement. Half-way between, as if thrown 
there by the hand which had held it, lay the red 
banner of ruin which Palovski had carried, and he 
at least would never pick it up again. 

The boys had not been absolutely forbidden going 
out upon this scouting expedition, and when they left 


the house they had no intention of going so far or of 
being gone so long. Of course, their absence was 
very speedily discovered, and then it seemed as if a 
perfect flood of anxiety burst forth, as if it could fol- 
low them and bring them right home. 

"They're in their good clothes, too," exclaimed 
Mrs. Redding. "Both of them put on their blue suits 
before supper." 

While the others were talking, however, Lilian 
silently slipj)ed to the front door. It was locked and 

"They might come," she said, "and they might be 
in a hurry to get in. Why don't they come !" 

She turned the key and pushed back the bolt, after 
dropping first the chain-bolt, but her heart beat fast 
as she turned the knob of the door. 

"It's as still as the grave," she said, "but it seems 
as if there must be somebody out there." Oi^en came 
the door, and she instantly exclaimed: "Why, I for- 
got the vestibule! There's an outer door stronger 
than this is." 

That seemed to give her courage, for she tried it at 

"The boys left it on the latch, so they could let 
themselves in," she said. "Oh!" 

Her exclamation was hardly more than a breath 
and she did not shut the door she had opened so 


stealthily. She held it open a few inches and peered 
out, for she had heard something; that is, she had 
half-heard a sound that was only half-made, for it 
was a sound of frightened j^anting. 

"Oh, why won't some of them let me in?" it 
whispered. "Is it such a sin to be a black girl? 
Doesn't God care for black girls? Didn't he make 

"Come in! Come right in!" shouted Lilian. 
"Mother! Mrs. Redding! Here's a poor black girl 
running away from the mob!" 

"Bress de Lord!" came back in the deepest mellow 
music that Diana Lee could utter. " Reckon he sent 
her to de right place. Come in, honey, whoebber 
you is. Dah isn't any debbil in dis house." 

Up the steps, with a frightened, springing step, 
came a light form not much taller than Lilian's. 
The door v/as wide open, and she was drawn in by an 
eager pair of hands as she entered ; but Lilian did not 
utter a word, and then the fugitive was all but 
smothered by Diana before she could answer the 
question : 

"Who is ye, honey?" 

"I was one of the teachers in the orphan asylum," 
replied the rescued girl. "I've been hiding " 

She was hardly able to say how or where, in her 
excitement, except as to a house from which she had 


been compelled to go by the fear of its inmates that 
her presence might bring the mob upon them. 

"They were good too/' she said, "but they were 
frightened. They told me to go to the police station- 
house, but when I got nearly there the mob were 
burning it down." 

She was getting calmer now, and her new friends 
were also able to think and speak a little less excitedly. 
She was very dark, but she was neatly dressed, and 
her speech did not contain a trace of the peculiar 
accent which distinguished Diana Lee's eloquence. 
Lilian noticed it at once. 

"She is educated," she said to herself, "but no two 
of those colored women downstairs talk just alike." 

"Do tell me your name," suddenly exclaimed Mrs. 
Eedding; "I forgot to ask what it was." 

"My name is Ida Hancock," said the dark girl. 
" My father and mother live in Boston. They were 
born there, and so were their jjarents. Our family is 
one of the oldest New England families. Father is a 
minister. I was educated at Mount Zion Seminary." 

"Sho!" exclaimed Diana Lee with a sudden swell 
as if an attack of pride had seized her. " Sho ! De 
gal! Nex' ye know she'll be turnin' w'ite!" 

"She's just splendid, mother!" said Lilian in a tone 
that Ida could not hear. " Why, I never dreamed of 
such a thing! I'm so glad we've saved her!" 


All talk was interrupted by a lond, repeated ring- 
ing of the door-bell. It was answered at once by 
Diana, with the rest of them behind her as a kind of 
rear-gnard and skirmishers, and they heard her ex- 
change a ievi swift words with somebody. Then the 
door shut with a bang, and there was a sound of 
heavy boots on the sidewalk, as if a man were going 
away and running his very best. 

"Diana," asked Mrs. Eedding, "what is it?" 

"Dey's a-comin' heah!" groaned poor Diana, wring- 
ing her fat, black hands. 

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Eedding. "Have they 
found out about you and the others?" 

"De wahnin' is 'bout de mob!" replied Diana. 
"Dey's comin' to buhn de house on us. Wat shall 
we do?" 

"The boys!" said Mrs. Kandolph. "Dave and 
Barry! Oh, what can have become of them? They 
may have been murdered! This is horrible!" 

"0 madam!" sobbed Ida Hancock, "I'm afraid I 
have brought this." 

"No, you haven't," said Mrs. Eedding wrathfully. 
"I'm glad you came. Oh, how I wish my husband 
were here !" 

Diana had again opened the door, in a half -frantic 
curiosity as to what might or might not be seen in 


the street, and they now heard her suddenly scream 

"Yah! De boys! Dey's comin' ! BressdeLord! 
Dey isn't hurt a mite, or dey couldn't run! O 
Missus Eedding ! Hallelujah !" 

What the rest shouted could not be so clearly made 
out, but hardly was the door shut behind Dave and 
Barry before Lilian told them : 

"You are only just in time! Diana's friends have 
sent her warning that the mob is coming to burn this 

"We'll fight 'em!" shouted Barry. "Where are 
those revolvers, mother?" 



AERY and Dave reached their home breath - 

less, panting, horrified, but without any 

k^ ^j\^ ^^6^ that it was not a safe refuge for them 
^^t;! to run to. It had seemed to them, as they 

(fh^ fled through the hot, dismal, and deserted 
streets, like a kind of fort, with a strong gar- 
rison of mothers and sisters and — well, and home, 
for every home is and should be a fortress. 

Now, however, before they had a good opportunity 
to unload the terrible burden of news they had brought 
with them, they were told of the thrilling v/arning 
brought to Diana by the messenger. 

Poor Diana ! It was almost a relief to her feelings 
to know and to say that the coming peril was not 
altogether on her personal account. There had been 
even an exaggerated report made to the mob leaders 
of the number of colored people who had fled to Mrs. 
Redding's, or rather to Diana Lee's house, for safety. 
" We must go somewhere, " said Lilian. " We must 
get away as quickly as we can !" 

"Where can we go?" exclaimed Mrs. Redding. 



"We can't go anywhere!" groaned Mrs. Randolph; 
and it ahnost seemed as if she were right, and as if 
every path to safety were closed up. 

"I know!" shouted Barry as a sudden idea struck 
him. " Come on, Dave. I'll get the axe. You fetch 
the step-ladder." 

"What is it, Barry?" asked his mother. 

"That house to rent! Don't you know?" he hastily 
replied. "Straight back from ours in the block on 
the other street. Go through our back yard into 
that back yard and get into it. It's empty." 

"You can't get in; it's locked," said Mrs. Eedding 
in a tone that was more than half -despairing. 

"We can burst in the backdoor," said Barry. 
" Come on, Dave. The mob won't find any of us in 
this house." 

" I'm ready !" shouted Dave, as he sprang away after 
the step-ladder. 

"Bress de Lord!" remarked Diana. "I jistknowed 
he'd find some way o' lettin' us out." 

"Mrs. Eandolph, " said Mrs. Redding, "we can pack 
up some things if we're quick." 

Out went the boys and over the back fence; and 

then it was a wonder how rapidly the fastenings of 

the back door of the empty house gave way before 

the all but frantic blows of Barry's axe. He felt as 

if he were chopping for life — for a dozen lives. 


"There!" he shouted, as the door went in; "now 
for the folks! We could go through to the other 
street if we wanted to." 

"They'd follow us," said Davis. 

" Not if they don't know where we've gone," rej)lied 
Barry ; but his heart sank a little as he acknowledged 
that danger. 

It was drawing toward midnight, and all houses 
in the neighborhood were closed. Besides, none of 
them seemed to offer any promise of better safety. 
Something like safety could possibly be gained, if 
everybody could get far enough away from Mrs. Bed- 
ding's house before the arrival of the enemy. Diana 
and her colored friends were already getting over the 
back fence, and they were trying hard to do it silently, 
but they were not succeeding very well, for the air 
was full of — 

"Hush, you!" 

"Don' say a word!" 

" Jes' you keep still, honey!" 

"Sho! Now! Hush up!" 

"Don't ye make a loud soun'! Bress de Lord, I's 
ober de fence!" 

The "house to rent" was of about the same size 
with Mrs. Bedding's, and the new colored tenants did 
not seem inclined to pause in the basement they fran- 
tically rushed through. 


"Right upstairs!" exclaimed Diana, as soon as she 
was in. "I's loaded with things. I'll jes' put 'em 
away an' go back foh some moah. But 'pears like I 
wanted to go up an' git out onto de ruff!'' 

Dave and Barry were quickly back in their own 
house, but their first anxiety was for a look at things 
in the street. They peered out at the parlor-windows, 
and for a moment they almost felt more hopeful, all 
was so night-like and so still. Could it be that there 
was any danger? 

"Hark!" suddenly exclaimed a voice behind them. 
" Miss Lihan !" 

"Ida, do you hear anything? Was that " 

"It's the mob!" shouted Barry. "I can hear them. 
What were they so still for? They are coming!" 

The rush of men that was pouring along that street 
had made no effort at keeping silence; but they had 
already shouted much that sultry evening, and they 
were in haste now with a deadly errand on their hands. 
The mere tread of their feet had been nothing in the 
great tumult of the city until it drew very near. 

Down came the windows. The blinds were shut 
and fastened, while Lilian and Ida Hancock darted 
upstairs to warn Mrs. Randolph and Mrs. Redding. 

The seeming silence was gone, for suddenly all the 
street was flooded with furious rioters. It was a sort 
of Babel of shouts and threats and profanity, mingled 


with fierce demands for the opening of the door and 
for the surrender of the colored people. A heavy 
stone was hurled through one of the parlor-windows, 
crashing the glass and the blinds, and through that 
opening Barry shouted back : 

"No colored people here! All gone!" 

A roar of savage denial replied to him, and it was 
as if any escape of their intended victims was regarded 
by the angry ruffians as an injury done to themselves. 
Their prey had been snatched from them, if it had 
been, and they would have revenge on anybody in 
that house. 

The other houses on either side and across the 
street, were not only all closed but carefully darkened. 
The street-lamps were out, and only the torches carried 
by some of the mob threw any light upon the grimy 
faces turned up at Mrs. Bedding's windows. 

"Hurry, mother!" shouted Barry. "Dave and I've 
got the revolvers." 

"Eun, Lilian!" said Mrs. Eandolph, "run!" 

"I won't leave the boys!" shivered Lilian. 
" They're going to fight ! I'm going to help! Do go, 
mother! I can run if I need to." 

"Run, all of you!" yelled Dave. "Get out over 
the fence! They're coming uj) the steps now." 

"We haven't a moment to spare," gasped Mrs. 
Redding. "I'm afraid it's too late. Shoot, Barry!" 


There had been an effort made to save something, 
for there had been no doubt but what the house 
would be burned as well as plundered, like other 
houses assailed by that mob. With the help of Diana 
and her colored friends, trunks of clothing and a 
number of other things had been thrown over the 
back-yard fence. All the women had felt more coura- 
geous, too, while they were rescuing property from the 
robbers. Both Mrs. Redding and Mrs. Eandolph had 
even now come downstairs with their hands full, but 
they dropped whatever it was, and seized Lilian just 
as she exclaimed : 

"Why didn't I get a pistol! I could shoot, too!" 

"Now, Dave!" said Barry; "they are staving in 
the door!" 

Loud rang the reports of those two revolvers. 
There was no such thing as taking aim, but no aim 
was needed in firing into such a pack. 

There was a rattle of answering shots, a shower of 
stones and clubs, a crash of glass, and there were 
shrieks, groans, yells 

"Oh, boys!" came despairingly from the basement 
stairway. "They are breaking in the area-door, too. 
Come !" 

"They can't! It's iron!" shouted back Barry as 
he fired again and again. "Run, mother!" 

"Come now!" she screamed. 


"Barry," said Dave, "my pistol's empty -" 

"So is mine. Load up," said Barry. "They're 
hesitating 'bout something." 

"Last chance we've got," said Dave with his hand 
full of cartridges. 

It was an awful moment, for the front door was 
giving way. 

Out in the yard there were now what seemed four 
shadows walking through the darkness, and turning 
to look at the house they had left. 

"The boys will be killed!" groaned Mrs. Eedding. 

"Why don't they come?" screamed Mrs. Randolph. 
"They can do no more." 

" What's that?" exclaimed Lilian. " Hark ! I heard 

They all heard it, and they could not at once under- 
stand what it said, but it was the sound made by 
twenty rifles fired together, at the word of command, 
followed quickly by the precisely similar report of twen- 
ty more. It was at the moment when Barry shouted : 

"I've loaded! There goes the door! The inside 
door won't keep 'em back a minute. Hear the glass 

He and Dave sprang out of the parlor into the hall, 
firing at the men who had rushed into the narrow 
vestibule, and some of these fired back while others 
shoved at the door. 

" The inside door won't keep "em back a minute . 


One volley, two volleys, three, four, in quick suc- 
cession, a short distance up the street — and then a 
stentorian voice shouted : 

" Charge bayonets ! Charge!" 

Down came the steady lines of steel. Shoulder to 
shoulder closed the disciplined files of stalwart men. 
Forward, unflinchingly, through a shower of shots 
and stones ; for these were a full company of United 
States regular infantry, and behind them rolled the 
heavy wheels of two field-pieces. It was a detach- 
ment on its way to reinforce the soldiers who had 
been defeated on First Avenue, to rescue the wounded 
left there, to carry away the dead, and to finish the 
awful work that had been begun by the defeated 
detachment. It had found this fragment of the mob 
in its way. 

Just in the nick of time ! 

"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Randolph in the back 
yard, "have the soldiers come?" 

"Bress de Lord!" shouted Diana Lee, climbing over 
the fence with miraculous agility — for her. " I heerd 
'em charge bay-nits !" 

"My son!" Two voices said it, and two women 
darted back toward the house they had fled from. 

The rioters in the vestibule had heard the volleys 
and the order to charge, and they knew that their 
comrades in the street were falling back. Before 


them rang again revolver-shots. The door went 
crashing in, but the very men who had broken its 
frail barriers sprang back to look at things in the 

A bayonet charge is a thing which only the best 
troops in the world can either make or face. It is so 
close, so sure, so merciless, so terribly effective, for 
the cold steel does not miss. It is the very despera- 
tion of battles, and the mob shrank and wilted before 
it. Back swiftly, steadily pressed, yelling, howling, 
beaten, then racing away for life, went the mob which 
had so nearly succeeded. 

"Barry, are you safe?" 

"Davis, are you hurt?" 

"0 Dave, where are you?" asked Lilian. "It is 
so dark!" 

Dark it was, but Ida must have had a match in her 
pocket, for just then she struck one and passed it 
rapidly from one gas-jet to another, until the parlors 
and hall were a blaze of light. What a ruin the win- 
dows were ! and stones had broken the globes of the 
chandelier ! 

"Mother," said Dave, as she hugged him, "the sol- 
diers were just in time." 

"Barry, you are hurt I" sobbed Mrs. Redding as she 
held him up. 

"Something's the matter with my right leg," he 


said; "but my pistol's empty again. I want to load 

The officer in command of the troops had halted 
them before the house, that he might make sure of 
its safety before going further, while his men fired a 
finishing brace of volleys after the fleeing rioters. 
He was a tall, fine-looking young fellow, and he 
seemed to move with something of the precision of a 
machine, as the men under him had done in firing 
and in charging. He was now on his way toward 
the steps of Mrs. Eedding's house, not walking in any 
haste or seeming at all excited. As he did so the 
brilliant glare of light showed him a pale-faced, flash- 
ing-eyed girl of perhaps about sixteen, whose hands 
were full of flags. That is, she had seized a roll of 
bunting out of which two staffs were sticking, and 
she was nervously unrolling it. 

"Hurrah!" she shouted, as she darted out through 
the vestibule. 

The lieutenant himself responded to her with a 
polite raising of his hat, and he, too, said "Hurrah!" 

It was as if he had given a signal to his men, and 
they added a hearty round of cheers ; but a man in 
the ranks remarked: "One of them flags is Confed," 

"Come in, Lilian! Come in!" exclaimed Mrs. 
Eandolph. "You are waving both flags!" 

"I don't care if I am!" shouted Lilian. "Oh, how 


glad I am they got here! They've saved us all! I 
think they are splendid !" , 

"Lieutenant," sang out Davis, "both of those flags 
are from Gettysburg !" 

"All right," said the lieutenant, smiling and bow- 
ing to Lilian ; but he turned to her mother and asked 
with precision : 

"Madam, were any of the inmates of the house 

"Yes, sir," replied Mrs. Redding from the floor, on 
which Barry had been compelled to sit down, with her 
beside him, "my son is wounded in the leg." 

"Surgeon!" shouted the lieutenant toward his com- 
mand. "This way, as soon as you've attended that 
man. Madam, I'll see how it is myself. Some of 
our men were hurt " 

"0 Barry!" exclaimed Lilian, whirling around and 
pitching both her flags before her down the hall. "I 
didn't know you were wounded !" 

"Not much, I guess," he said, "but Dave and I 
have been in a battle, after all. I hardly knew I was 
hit till it was all over." 

"Soldier boy!" said the smiling lieutenant. "I felt 
that way myself. All right, madam. I'll bandage 
it now. The surgeon will do the rest. Sergeant, 
here! Help me put him on a sofa. I'll leave a 
guard, madam, but I think you will have no more 


trouble. A force of police will be here in a few min- 
utes. Our men are needed on First Avenue. I'll call 
in the morning. Good-night. Good-night, my girl 
with two flags, both from Gettysburg." 

Off he went, and away marched his men, with the 
dangerous-looking brass field-pieces trundling behind 
them. How could he look so smiling, so polite, so 
almost humorous in the midst of such dreadful work, 
and just after a hard fight and a bayonet charge? 

If Mrs. Eandolph had indeed asked herself that 
question, she replied to it aloud : 

" He is a genuine soldier. Such a gentleman, too. 

I wish I knew his name, but he didn't give it " 

and then she joined all the rest, who were kneeling or 
standing around Barry, on the sofa. 

Among them knelt a gentleman in uniform, who 
had just taken his fingers away from a neatly fitted 
bandage upon Barry's right thigh. 

"There!" he said. "That furrow must have been 
ploughed by a ball from a smooth-bore gun, for it is 
not torn at all. Our ragged rifle -bullets make worse 
wounds than that. He will be out again before many 
days. Brave fellow ! His mother and sister and aunt 
ought to be proud of him." 

Mrs. Randolph stooped right down and kissed Barry, 
remarking : 

"Well! if he and Davis are not really cousins, they 


stood by each other like two brothers. We are proud 
of him, too." 

"He is a brother of mine,'' said Lihan with great 
emphasis; but all that Dave could think of to say was: 

"Does it hurt you much, Barry?" 

"Smarts like everything," said the wounded boy, 
"but we beat them off!" 

"You kept them at bay until help came," said the 
surgeon cheerfully, as he shut up his instrument case 
and looked around for his hat. 

He was thanked tremendously, but it was to be 
doubted if one man could remember and deliver all 
the thanks that the household tried to send by him to 
the lieutenant and his men. 

There was a soldier on guard at the door when the 
surgeon went away, but he had to remain only a few 
minutes before a strong squad of police arrived. Their 
first dvity was to care for wounded men and to clear 
the street of several lifeless relics of the severe strug- 
gle it had witnessed. The traces of it upon the house 
front could not so easily be removed. 

"The city will have to pay for it all, anyhow," said 
one of the police officers. "I shouldn't wonder if this 
riot cost our tax-payers several millions of dollars. " 

"Do you think the mob will be put down?" anx- 
iously asked Mrs. Eedding. 

"Put down?" replied the officer. "Of course it 


will. The old soldiers are gathering and arming, 
regiments of them. The militia are hurrying back. 
The police are getting the upper hand again. But 
it's been the hardest kind of battle fought right 
here in the city streets. There's no telling how many 
hundreds and hundreds of men have been killed or 

After that there was a pretty quiet time, as if 
everybody was too worn out to say anything. Even 
the colored people, who had now come back and were 
trying to be comfortable downstairs, were talking in 
whispers, as if anything loud might bring back the 

"Dave!" suddenly exclaimed Barry. 

"Hullo!" replied Dave. "Does that thing hurt 
again ?" 

"No," said Barry, "but don't you hear? Listen!" 

"I declare! exclaimed Mrs. Randolph. "It's the 
sound of cannon !" 

"I know!" shouted Dave. "It's the cannon the 
lieutenant had with him. He said he was going 
where we saw that fight. They've got there and 
they're fighting again." 

"I don't believe he'll be beaten," said Lilian. 
"There they go again!" 

The regulars and artillery, with a police force, were 
indeed in a hard fight with the mob, and they were 


not beaten, but there was an officer of higher rank in 
command instead of the smiling heutenant. When 
that fight was ended the strength of the mob there 
was broken. 

It had long since been bed-time, but there was little 
sleeping done in Mrs. Bedding's house that night. 
The next morning found Barry almost comfortable, 
though feverish ; but a doctor who came to see him 
made Lilian almost angry by speaking lightly of so 
very dreadful a wound. 

As the day went on, other people called at the house, 
and among them was Mr. Hunker. 

"Mrs. Eedding," he said, after a prying examina- 
tion of the injury done to the house, "your havin' 
colored people araound makes you liabul for them 
damages. You provoked the mob to do it, and you 
are responsible. The city's got to pay, too, and 
they've got to pay me for a suit of clothin', and a 
watch, and a hat, and a pair of boots, and " 

" You'd better send them your bill, then," responded 
Mrs. Eedding sharply; "but I shall not pay any rent 
until the house is put in good order again." 

All that he or anybody else had to say, however, 
was as nothing to the talk of Kid and the Shiner, 
when they came up at noon to see Barry and to bring 
him some "extras." 

Because they were not allowed to talk much in 


Barry's room, they seemed to feel all the more a kind 
of duty to tell all they knew to Davis and Lilian and 
the rest. 

"Tell you what," said Kid at last, "you folks are 
plucky to have the Stars and Stripes hung out in 
front of such a lookin' house as this is." 

"I did that," said Lilian. "The police said it was 
all right. So did Lieutenant Allen when he came to 
ask how we were this morning. They said the mob 
would never come again." 

"It's rigged out everywhere downtown, " remarked 
the Shiner. "That means this 'ere mob is busted." 

Barry lay in his bed looking out through the open 

"Mother," he said feverishly, "I wish father would 
hurry and come home. When he gets here I can tell 
him I know what war is, I know what the flag 
means, too." 

"It means peace and safety," said Mrs. Redding, 
"but it does seem as if we had to fight pretty hard 
to get them, and they haven't come yet." 



'LL New York felt pretty badly on the morn- 
ing of Thursday, the 16th of July. Most 
people felt as if they had been up all night. 
They felt, too, that nobody could guess 
what kind of day it was going to be. It was 
a dreadful thing not to know whether or not 
the whole city was about to be plundered and burned, 
and it was said pretty correctly that the police, brave 
as they had proved themselves, were nearly exhausted 
by their long, hard struggle with superior numbers. 
The leaders of the mob actually believed that they 
had gained the victory and were soon to have things 
their own way, for they could not understand that 
their rising had gained any successes mainly by a sud- 
den surprise, and that surprises do not last. 

"Mother," said Barry toward noon, as he moved 
feverishly on his bed, " I want to get well right away." 
"Of course you will," she said. "You are not 
wounded anything like as badly as your father is." 
And as she turned and looked out of the window it 
was almost as if she were more proud than sorry, 



especially as botli . of her wounded soldiers were likely 
to get well so quickly. 

"Oh!" exclaimed Barry, "how my leg hurts to 
move it! But I wish I knew what was going on. 
Where's Dave?" 

"Why," said Mrs. Redding, "he went out. We 
don't know where he is." 

" I want to see him soon's he gets back," said Barry ; 
and every soul in the house was brimful of that very 
wish, for Dave had slipped out after news. 

Nobody had seen him go, or he might have been 
kept at home, but he was now away over on Broad- 
way, standing at a corner and listening. 

" Musketry both sides of the city, " he said. " There ! 
cannon again. They say even the military have been 
beaten again and again. How smoky the air is! 

He turned and looked down Broadway, for at that 
moment he heard something that seemed to encourage 
him, although it was not a very loud noise ; nothing 
but a shrill fife and a couple of drums — barely enough 
music to march by. 

"There they come!" shouted Barry. "Hurrah! 
Now we're all right!" 

"That's the Sixty-ninth, sor," said a voice near 

him. "It's the Irish rigiment, home from Gittys- 

boorg. Thim's the b'yes to shtraighten things." 


Up the street they came, a body of men to be proud 
of, beyond a doubt ; but they wore a wearied look that 
hot noon-time, and Dave found out that they were to 
be scattered in garrison squads all over the city. 

"There's more coming," said the half -sick -looking 
policeman who told him, "but this is the hardest day 
of all." 

So it proved, in some respects, but Dave learned a 
great deal about New York before, late in the after- 
noon, he went home. He went in as he had gone out, 
without any help, and before any one expected him 
he was in the second -story front room where Barry 
lay. So v>^ere nearly all the rest of the household. 

"Dave!" exclaimed Barry, "how's the mob?" 

"0 Dave!" said Lilian, coming in, "what did you 
see? Has anything happened?" 

Right in the middle of half a dozen other questions, 
Dave answered them all. 

"Fighting all day, but the soldiers are here, and 
they are going to fight the mob all night. More 

"That is good news!" said his mother, and the rest 
agreed with her; but he had only told exactly what 
came to pass. 

Some of the severest fighting of the whole riot was 
done in the dark, or almost in the dark, that Thursday 
night. It went on from street to street, hour after 


hour, but all the while there were more soldiers and 
fewer rioters. Midnight came before the mob began 
to feel that it was broken, but the central part of the 
city was cleared before sunrise, and by breakfast-time 
there was a kind of dull, anxious quiet, for the law 
had gained the victory. 

Eegiment after regiment came pouring in on Fri- 
day, and about all the duty given them was to march 
through the streets and let it be seen that they had 
really come, and that the battle in New York was 
ended. It was said that over fourteen hundred men 
had been killed in it. 

Saturday morning there were workmen busy upon 
the repairs of Mrs. Bedding's house-front, and busi- 
ness downtown was beginning to stir again ; but the 
whole city needed Sunday to rest in. 

After that, it was a matter of course that a pretty 
dull spell should follow such a tremendous excitement. 
Barry had an idea that it was so dull because he was 
in bed, until after he got up a few days later, and 
found that it was every bit as dull to limp around the 
house and wish he could get out of it. 

Dave and Lilian said that it was because General 
Lee had retreated into Virginia, so that nobody could 
expect another great battle right away. So they and 
their mother took to reading, and did not have to think 
so much about the war. 


Mrs. Eedding almost agreed with Diana in her 
opinion that "Dah won't be nufifin of any 'count till 
dis hot wedder's ober, an' folks come back from whah 
day's gone. We'll have all de boahders we want 
den, but de house 'pears awful empty jist now." 

Even Kid and the Shiner, whenever they came to 
inquire about Barry's leg and ask if it hurt him much 
to walk, complained of a slowness in the news mar- 
ket. People did not seem to have that interest in 
extra editions which they once had. 

There was a great break in the dulness in one 
household one day, for a carriage drove to the door 
and a man on crutches got out of it. He did not 
have to ring the door-bell, for there had been faces at 
the windows of people waiting — waiting. 

"Father!" shouted Barry, but Mrs. Eedding could 
not say one word as she hurried to the door and 
opened it. 

"Sho!" exclaimed Diana. "All o' you uns keep 
back an' let de pore soul hug him. Bress de Lord 
f er lettin' him come !" 

Barry hardly limped as he, in a few seconds, fol- 
lowed his mother, and what those three said was not 
exactly spoken or heard. The best things that are 
ever said — well, they cannot be said at all, and they 
are understood just as well. 

"How d'ye do. Colonel Redding?" said Dave, after 


a glance at the new shoulder-straps that Barry's 
father wore. "I'm glad the surgeon was right about 
your leg." 

"How are you, my young friend?" replied the 
colonel heartily. "This is a better place than the 
hospital tent where you saw me. Is this Mrs. Ean- 
dolph? And her daughter? How d'ye do, Diana?" 

The talking went on rapidly for a few minutes, but 
the whole of it could not be done in the parlor. There 
was one thought on the mind of Mrs. Eedding which 
came out almost as soon as they were alone together 
in their room. 

"Dear! dear!" she exclaimed. "I haven't any 
boarders to speak of now, but I hope they will all be 
back again in the fall. The mob scared away nearly 
all I had left. What shall we do?" 

"Why, my dear," very cheerfully responded her 
husband, "you needn't worry about that. We don't 
need any boarders." 

"Why don't we?" she asked. 

"Why?" said he. "Well, we can get along on a 
colonel's pay and rations even in these times." 

"Of course we can!" exclaimed his wife. "I didn't 
think of that. And your leg's almost well, too." 

Letters had told a great deal, of course, but 
Barry and Davis were proud boys while the returned 
veteran listened to the story of the mob attack and 


hobbled into the hall to see where they had faced the 

"Hurrah!" shouted Colonel Eedding. "Good for 
you boys! I wish I'd been with you. You did a 
brave thing! They held the fort!" 

He said more than that, but Diana had a grief to 
unfold which she had kept to herself till then. 

" Sho !" she said. " I had de big kettle full of boilin' 
water foh de mob, an' I didn't have no chance to put 
it on 'em. I done gone forgot it w'en I went ober de 

"Whatever became of Ida Hancock?" inquired the 

"Ida?" said his wife. "Why, her friends came for 
her that Saturday and sent her home to Boston. I've 
had a letter from her. She is going to teach in an- 
other school this fall." 

" Barry's going to school again, too," said his father. 
" It won't hurt him to have been a newsboy and a 
fighting man, but he must have something else." 

"I'll be glad of that," began Barry slowly, for it 
was a new idea that he was hardly ready for; and 
while his mother was saying something about it, he 
turned to Dave and said : 

"Wish you could go with me." 

"I?" said Dave. "Oh, I've got to do something. 
I'm going to learn the banking business. I've a place 


to begin next week, with Washington Vernon & Co., 
on Wall Street." 

"Mr. Vernon is an old friend of our family," ex- 
plained Mrs. Randolph. "I shall be glad to have 
Davis with him." 

"That's tip-top!" shouted Barry. "By the time I 
get out of school Dave '11 be making piles of money. 
I don't care. Just you go ahead, Dave." 

"I must do something myself," said Mrs. Randolph. 
"Lilian thinks that she and I could keep a boarding- 
house. We have so many Southern friends." 

"Why, Mrs. Randolph!" exclaimed Mrs. Redding, 
"I've thought of that! You can keep this house, 
then, and we will board with you. I'm tired of it, 
and I want to give all the time I can to my husband. 
Besides, you are a better manager than I am." 

"I don't know about that," said Mrs. Randolph. 
"Lilian must go to school too. I want her to be as 
well educated as Ida Hancock. That girl astonished 
me. If all the colored people were like her " 

"They are not, then," said the colonel. "They're 
just like white people. Some are worth something 
and some are of no use whatever." 

So all things began to get settled, but all were a 
long time in settling. 

The year 1863 ended, and 1864 came and went, and 
so did 1865. 


Boys who were over fifteen in the middle days of 
the Civil War were of almost army age when it ended. 
It was a dreadfully long, slow time, and all the coun- 
try grew more and more weary of war and war news. 
The army called for more men from time to time, but 
there were no more riots anywhere. 

There were no disturbances of any kind in Mrs. 
EandClph's boarding-house, excepting that Barry 
Eedding now and then complained of the scornful 
way in which a girl of only nineteen could treat a 
young man of eighteen, one of the best oars in the 
Columbia College boat. But then that was when she 
threatened to box his ears for calling her a rebel, and 
when he was teasing her about certain letters that 
came to her frequently from the army. 

Letters did come, and it was also true that Lilian 
did her best to be on hand to meet the postman. 

The spring days of 1865 were very beautiful. 
Somehow or other, however, they did not seem to be 
appreciated. A sort of cloud was in people's eyes 
and over their minds and hearts. 

"0 Mrs. Eandolph!" exclaimed Mrs. Eedding one 
morning, "this is all so useless, these last battles. 
Everybody knows already what the end will be, and 
yet they go on fighting." 

"Yes, it is dreadful!" moaned Mrs. Eandolph, "but 
it must come to an end. I'm glad Davis is not there, 


nor Barry, but then your husband is with Sherman ; 
there may not be any battles down there." 

"He is marching to the sea," said Barry. "I don't 
know whether I'd rather be with him or with Grant 
at Richmond. I ought to be somewhere." 

"You ought to be just where you are," said Davis. 
"So ought I. I've thought it all over. What's that? 
Come on, Barry. Come along! There's news of some 
kind. Hear those guns?" 

"Go — do!" said his mother. "There must be 
something." For what they heard was a sound of 

Out they went, and the last thing that thej saw, or 
only half saw, as they left the house and hurried to- 
ward Broadway, was Lilian at one of the parlor- 
windows, looking out and listening. It was the first 
they had seen of her that morning, and she drew 
back quickly for some unknown reason. 

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" went the heavy guns of 
the forts in the harbor and of the great war-ships lying 
at anchor. Quickly after them followed a clangor of 
other sounds, for wherever there was a bell in any 
steeple or tower, somebody got at the rope of it and 
rang like mad. Men whom Dave and Barry never 
had met before stopped and shook hands with them. 
Women stood still in the streets and swung their 
handkerchiefs and wept aloud. 


Flags went flashing up on flagstaffs or streamed 
from open windows. 

"It is too good to be true, but it is true!" shouted 
Barry. " Richmond is taken ! Lee has surrendered! 
Peace has come!" 

"I'm old enough now to know it's the best thing 
for both sides," replied Dave soberly. "I can't go 
back to the house. I must go on to Vernon's." 

"I will, then," shouted Barry. "No college to-day. 
Hurrah! I'll take a newspaper." 

He stopped at a very neat-looking street-corner 
stand loaded with newspapers, magazines, novels, and 
knick-knacks, and saw nearly a dozen hands besides 
his own reaching out at the same moment. 

"Your last chance, Barry," said a very loud, clear 
voice. "There'll be another extry up in no time." 

"Hullo, Kid," said Barry. "Is that you?" 

" Me and the Shiner," said Kid. " This is our stand. 
Been here a month. If we keep on this way, we 
mean to start a paper and print our own extrys. 
The Shiner's downtown." 

It was no time for more talk, but Barry hurried 
home with his paper. As he drew near the house, he 
saw something that made him exclaim : 

"They've got the news. Hullo! if that isn't Lil- 
ian's work!" 

It must have been. One pretty large and brilliant 


Stars and Stripes was already fluttering upon its staff 
from one of the parlor-windows, but over the front 
door were two other flags, crossed and half-tied with 
crape. Both of these were somewhat ragged and 
soiled, and one of them was such a flag as had gone 
down forever when General Lee surrendered. 

"She has done just right!" said Barry. 

"So she has," remarked a full yet half -husky voice 
behind him. 

Barry turned and saw only a tall, fine-looking 
young fellow, with the gold leaves of a major on his 
shoulder-straps and with his left arm in a sling. It 
was a time for shaking hands, but Barry and the 
major shook hands without saying anything and 
walked on to the house side by side. It hardly sur- 
prised Barry, even when the major went right up the 
steps with him. 

The door was wide open, and they walked on into 
the parlor. "Mother," shouted Barry, "where are 
you? The war is over ! Peace has come!" 

Nobody answered him, and he stopped suddenly as 
a pale-faced girl, dressed all in black, arose from a 
sofa upon which she seemed to have thrown herself, 
perhaps after arranging those flags over the door. 
Perhaps, too, a new idea occurred to Barry, for he 
turned and looked again at the officer who had so 
coolly walked in with him. " Hullo !" he exclaimed. 


"Why, major, I know you now. How are you? 
Glad you've come. Lilian, I'm going up to find 
mother -" 

He was gone, but another voice out in the hall was 
mixed with a sound of feet rapping the floor, as if 
some pretty heavy person were trying to dance. 

"Sho! Degal! Bress de Lord ! Hallelujah! De 
peace! Glory!" 

"Miss RandoliDh — Lilian!" exclaimed the major. 
"Don't you know me?" 

"Know you, Henry Allen?" she said. "We heard 
you were killed three days ago in the battle before 

"Some other Allen," he said. "I'm as alive as I 

can be " Nobody heard the rest of what they 

said, but Diana was now down in the basement, out 
at the door, in again, and it sounded as if she were 
singing a hymn. 

Barry went upstairs shouting : 

"Mother, peace has come!" But he told the rest of 
his good news rapidly, and added : 

" Major Allen came home with me. I was real glad 
to see him again. So was Lilian. AVhat a night 
that was " 

Perhaps he did not know exactly what to say, but 
his mother exclaimed : 

"Lieutenant Allen? Why, then, he wasn't killed!" 


"No, indeed, he wasn't," said Barry, "but he's a 
major now. Dark bkie staff-straps. Left arm in a 
sling. Wasn't hurt much " 

" Oh, I'm so glad, " interrupted his mother. " I'll go 
and tell Mrs. Eandolph, Then I must see him my- 
self. If all this isn't wonderful! Why, Barry, I'm 
hardly sure I'm alive! Your father " 

"That's it," said Barry. "We shall hear from 
him now and from Sherman's army. No more 
fighting for them, now Lee has surrendered. Their 
campaign's turned into a picnic. He'll be home 
before long." 

"Just hear Diana!" exclaimed his mother. "I'm 
glad she can sing. I couldn't, but I can thank God!" 

The city was brilliant with flags and wild with re- 
joicings, but most people, after all, seemed to feel 
very much as did Mrs. Redding, and were hardly sure 
whether they were alive or not. The war had been 
so long and they had become so used to it that it was 
strange and half-unnatural to be without it. 

"Mr. Vernon," said Davis, as he walked into the 
banker's office, "this is the end." 

"I'm glad of it!" said the old banker. "I'm as 
glad as anybody. The country has suffered enough. 
What did you say, Mr. Mapleson?" 

" Not much," replied the icy-eyed politician, as coolly 
as ever, "but it will take some years to get anything 


settled. Old times are gone, and we have a new time 
to build up — a new country." 

"It will be our country, God's country," said the 
white-headed banker reverently. "I'm really glad 
we are to have but one flag for all of it." 

"So am I!" said Dave. 

It was just about that time that Mrs. Eandolph, in 
the hall, called out to her daughter in the parlor : 

"Lilian, dear! I've taken down both of those flags 
from over the door. This is not a day of mourn- 

"Do come in, mother," said Lilian. "Major Allen 
is here." 

"I'm coming," said Mrs. Randolph, rolling up the 
flags. "I shall be very glad to see him." 

He certainly had no reason to complain of his wel- 
come ; but then that was the very room into which he 
had walked, in a hot summer midnight of 1863, to 
inquire if any of the family h^d been hurt in the fight 
with the mob. He had been wonderfully welcome 

Barry had not been able to remain long in the 
house, but had gone out after any more news that 
might be coming. If he did not obtain much right 
away, he saw something worth seeing when he reached 
the great open space called City Hall Square. It was 
packed solid with men, who had heard all there was 


to hear and were absurdly telling it over again to 
each other and laughing and hurrahing. 

He remained there awhile, as crazy as anybody 
else, and then he went down to find Dave. Toward 
evening they came home together, and then there was 
another great time, for Major Allen also had gone 
and returned, for he had been invited to tea and to 
spend the evening. It was a good deal as if he and 
Dave and Barry had all been soldiers on the same side 
or on both sides, to hear them go on, and Lilian 
caught herself speaking of Grant's troops and Lee's, 
all together as "our army." 

"Mother," said Barry at last, "if I didn't meet old 
Hunker to-day, and you ought to have heard him!" 

"The old skinflint!" she muttered. 

" I met him away down on Wall Street, " said Barry, 
"and I couldn't help asking him how he felt, and 1 
guess I found out." 

"What did he say?" asked Dave. 

"Say?" laughed Barry. "Why, said he: 'Wall, i 
daon't see haow there's goin' to be any more money 
made, if there's goin' to be peace. You and your 
mother'll suffer by it. Your father, he'll have to 
quit the army, and his pay'U stoj), and he'll have to 
find somethin' else to do. So '11 all of 'em. I'm 
afraid haouse rents'!! have to come daown, too." 

"Why, the heartless — I don't know what to call 


him!" exclaimed Mrs. Eedding. "Anyhow, the city 
paid him twice over for the damage the mob did to 
this house. What is it, Diana?" suddenly asked 
Mrs. Eedding, rising and stepping toward the door. 
"A telegram!" 

She tore open, a little nervously, the envelope Diana 
held out to her. 

"From your father, Barry, " she said. "It's from 
Goldsboro, North Carolina. Safe and well, thank the 

When, at last. Major Allen arose to go, the evening- 
was drawing toward a pretty late close. Much of the 
excitement had worn away and a peaceful, quiet feel- 
ing had come in place of it. It was at about that 
time that Barry remarked : 

"I can remember away back in 1863, wondering 
what war was and what it was for. I found out in 
more ways than one. I know what soldiers are good 
for, too. If ever the country wants any again, it can 
count me in. I'll be as ready to follow the flag as 
father was, clean through to 



^TRAIGHT ON. A story of a boy's school-life in 
*— ^ France. By the author of " The Story of Colette." With 
86 Illustrations by Edouard Zier. 320 pages. 8vo. Cloth, 

" It is long since we have encountered a storj' for children which we can recom- 
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" A healthful tale of a French school-boy who suffers the usual school-boy persecu- 
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" The story is one of exceptional merit, and its delightful interest never flags." — 
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HE STORY OF COLETTE, a new, large-paper 

edition. With 36 Illustrations. Svo. Cloth, $1.50. 

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tiest, most artistic, and in every way charming stories that French fiction has been 
honored with for a long time." — New York Trihine. 


ERMINE'S TRIUMPHS. A Story for Girls and 

Boys. By Madame Colomb. With 100 Illustrations. Svo. 


The popularity of this charming story of French home life, which has 
passed through many editions in Paris, has been earned by the sustained in- 
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wholesomeness of the lessons which are suggested. One of the most de- 
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•with the illustrated edition of " Colette." 

New York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



O. Stoddard. The story of a country boy who fought his way 
to success in the great metropolis. With 23 Illustrations by 
C. T. Hill. 

" There are few writers who know how to meet the tastes and needs of boys better 
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-»^ Pendleton. The experiences of two boys in the forests of 
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"The doings of 'King' Tom, Albert, and the happy-go-lucky boy Jim on the 
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J. LUMBIA. By Hezekiah Butterworth. With 13 full- 
page Illustrations by J. Carter Beard, E. J. Austen, and 

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TJT'E ALL. A story of out-door life and adventure 
t^*^ in Arkansas. By Oct.we Thanet. With 12 full-page Illus- 
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and habits of the different types of Southerners that she has so effectively reproduced. 
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T ITTLE SMOKE. A story of the Sioux Indians. 
-^ By William O. Stoddard. With 12 full-page Illustrations by 
F. S. Dellenbaugh, portraits of Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, and 
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various implements and surroundings of Indian life. 
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Uniform binding, cloth, silver. 8v o. $1.50 each. 
New York: D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3. & 5 Bond Street. 



-^^ F. Holder, joint author of " Elements of Zoology." With 
numerous Illustrations. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
A story of camping and fishing adventures in company with a naturalist 
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J- the Black Hawk War and the Timker Schoolmaster. By 

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-* O. Stoddard, author of "Little Smoke," "Crowded out o' 

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This popular author presents an extraordinary page of our history, which 

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■*—^ author of " The Captain-General," etc. With S full-page Illus- 
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The romantic story of a boy's adventures among the Indians and French 
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New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 




lyTinSHIFMAN PA ULDING. A true story of the 

IVl Warofi8i2. By MOLLY Elliot Seawell, author of " Little 

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ITTLE JARVIS. The story of the heroic mid- 
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formly with " Midshipman Paulding." $i.oo. 

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New York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Street.